


Rules of Engagement

by FleursPatronus



Category: Fleurmione - Fandom, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, Post-Movie(s), fleurmione - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-30
Updated: 2016-03-07
Packaged: 2018-05-04 03:40:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 44,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5319053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FleursPatronus/pseuds/FleursPatronus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The life of an Auror is never easy, she knew this, but Hermione's job only proves to be more difficult once a certain blonde becomes involved.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Familiar Chase

**Author's Note:**

> I originally posted this story on ff.net and have been in the motions with it over the past few years. I've recently gone through each chapter and made corrections and added detail where I thought lacking to lead up to post new chapters soon. I've got drafts finished and I'm in the process of perfecting the new stuff so I hope you guys like it.

Rules of Engagement

 

Chapter One: The Familiar Chase

 

The mind is a strange and complicated instrument. Seeming to wander in the most insignificant or as was Hermione's case; dire situations. She ran her finger along the bruise on her wrist, recounting the exhausting last few hours.

 

* * *

 

She was running, her breath coming out ragged as she slid around the corner of a cobblestone building and made her way down the alley. These streets were narrow, she liked that. This small Italian town would fit perfectly into her plan. The strategy was basic: three pursuers, one prey. Lead the prey by one pursuer into a cross section as the other two took the adjacent streets on each side, forcing the prey into the middle; a simple herding technique. The man they were chasing was by all accounts an animal after all, responsible for countless deaths during and after the second war. He was an oddball of sorts; not particularly important in the planning as much as he was a peon, in laments terms: insignificant. But none of that mattered to her, she was determined; they had history.

This "man" Penko Stoyan; had been a particular thorn in her side for the past year and a half now. His case had merely come to her by pure coincidence, a simple job really, a pick and drop as the ministry calls it. Her mission was simple: pick him from his hideout in France and then drop him straight into Azkaban. It wasn't the mission itself that proved problematic but the hours after they had completed it, he had a rather skillful talent for escaping. So there she was for approximately the tenth time, out of breath and out of patience; careening through narrow street ways to capture him.

She slid to a stop at the edge of a church, hearing the multiple hurried footsteps of Stoyan and Ron's boots echoing through the empty cafe plaza. The plan had worked perfectly, this was a dead end; he would have nowhere to go. Her eyes gaze upward towards the building tops; Seamus finally having caught up had taken his post behind a large column. Stoyan's feet skidded to a stop, turning swiftly as he drew his wand from his jacket pocket; leering up at Ron who had in turn drew his.

"You really need to work on your exercise Weasley. It seems I am benefiting more ‘Dan you are from ‘Dese frequent chases." Stoyan mocked with his thick Bulgarian accent.

"Don't you worry about me Penko; I can keep up with you. No matter how long we do this dance you will fail; every time." Ron sneered, his breath coming out ragged as he tried to steady his hand.

Stoyan's laugh echoed around them as he lowered his wand, slowly closing the distance between him and his pursuer.

"Why do this? You already know ‘De outcome. I don't need my wand for you; ‘De weasel has chased ‘De tiger into a situation he cannot possibly control." Ron held his footing, gripping his wand tighter as Stoyan closed the distance between them, standing directly in front of the red headed wizard. Stoyan's nose flared in defiance as he dared the Auror to refuse his challenge, leaning into the tip of Ron's wand.

Hermione cursed under her breath, Penko was playing to Ron's weakness: his pride. She glanced up at Seamus who had already started to move forward, his eyes pleading to make a move but Hermione shook her head curtly; gesturing him to fall back. If they moved now Penko would see them, if Ron could get him to just move a little further up they could be out of Stoyan's peripheral.

"All right, its old fashioned you want then, is it?" Ron glared as he lowered his wand back into his breast pocket, slowly backing up as he readied his fists. Stoyan gave a crooked smirk as he delivered a left hook into Ron's stomach and then a right uppercut to his jaw causing the young wizard to fall on his back.

"You seem out of practice, maybe Granger would have put up a better fight." He chuckled, slowly moving forward as Ron back peddled with his hands on the steep gravel road. This was there chance, Hermione signaled towards the roof top as she sprang from behind the church, a blue bolt shooting from her wand as Seamus followed suit.

Penko turned swiftly, dodging and blocking the blasts and returning his counters in kind. Seamus barely avoided a cutting spell as Hermione shielded herself and rolled behind one of the buildings for cover; shooting stunning spells blindly from the corner. She knew she couldn’t stay there for long; the notion becoming quite clear when Stoyan’s Bombarda charm blew off part of the buildings side, narrowly missing her head.

“Come now Granger, I haven’t seen you in weeks and ‘Dis is how you greet me? You send ‘de Weasel?” Penko taunted before kicking the Redheaded Auror at his feet in the stomach. Ron’s bellow of pain echoed around the empty plaza as Hermione peaked from around the corner; her eyes narrowing in frustration. Her gaze quickly found Seamus’ and a silent plan was formed as she sprung from her hiding place, hands held up in surrender.

“Stop! I’m here…just stop hurting him, please.”

The Bulgarian stopped mid kick and turned to her, a Cheshire cat like smile slinking across his face as she approached.

“Ah! ‘Der you are, I was beginning to worry. Your wand Granger…now.”

He held his hand out when she reached him, smile still in place but eyes flaring as if daring her to defy him. With her gaze fixed on the hunched over wizard at his feet; the witch extended her hand out and placed her wand onto his calloused palm.

“Good…very good.”

His fingers curled over the handle and he pulled suddenly, bringing her into him as he grabbed her throat.

“Now… The other Auror, where is he?”

He squeezed before she could answer, her throat contracting under his grip.

“There is no one else, it’s just Ronald and I.”

“Liar! ‘Dere’s always three.”

He kicked her out from under her feet then, a well-practiced take down Hermione noted as her feet left the ground. He followed her movement as he knelt with her momentum, all the while his grip still securely around her neck. Her back hit the pavement with a plum of dust settling around them and the air promptly leaving her lungs. Before she could get her bearings he moved his other hand two her wrist, still gripping tight with her wand and descended upon her. Hermione could do nothing but turn her head away in disgust as he hovered over her, his nose running along her jaw and to her ear.

“Make him reveal himself or he’ll watch you die… right here.”

She yelped when the hand that was still wrapped around her wrist with her wand twisted violently, the muscles becoming strained. Penko’s deep chuckle tickled against her ear as his nose moved from her jaw to her hairline. It was then she saw it; out of her peripheral. Seamus silently kneeling just a few feet away, his wand and other hand slowly levitating a group of cast iron chairs from the café.

"You know…I've always wondered what it would be like; to have you on your back."

"Well...you’re going to have to wonder some more.” Hermione's foot collided with his stomach as she rolled out of the way as Seamus sent the objects flying. Stoyan tried to recover, deflecting a few of the chairs before one crashed into his side sending him backwards. At the same moment Hermione recovered her wand and made her way behind the criminal, the tip of her wand pressing against the back of his head.

"Petrificus Totalus!"

Stoyan's whole body stiffened, his eyes glassing over as he fell forward; dust from the street pluming around him. For a moment they stood there, their breath coming out raggedly. It was Ron's groan of agony that finally snapped them back to reality.

Hermione rushed to his side.

"Did we win?" He coughed as she cradled his head.

"You're a fool you know that? Stoyan is six foot two and nearly two hundred and fifty pounds. You couldn't have possibly expected to be any match Ronald." Hermione chastised as she and Seamus helped him to his feet.

"Oh I know that, but I had to get him into position, I knew he'd only get a few knocks in before you saved me 'Mione. Well…that's what I had hoped anyway." Ron quipped, shooting his lopsided grin as he arched his back, cracking it.

"You're a right daft codder you know that? But I guess brilliant all the same. I really thought our plan was done for back there." Seamus breathed as he kicked Stoyan's unconscious body.

"I messed it up, my mind…I don't know. I was off." Hermione rambled solemnly as she stroked the bruise on her wrist.

"I should have dodged it, I could have…"

She felt Ron's hand gently squeeze her shoulder. "It went how it went. All that matters is we've got the bloody bastard. Now let's call the round up team and be done with him. He can't escape where he's going."

 

Hermione was jarred out of the memory as Ron sat down across from her, sliding a cup of hot brown liquid towards her. Her nose turned up offensively at the cups contents in front of her.

"I know you asked for tea but believe me it was ghastly, the coffee I've heard isn't bad though." He said, giving her an apologetic glance as he took a sip from his cup.

"Any word from the ministry?" Her tone was quiet, exasperated.

"Yeah, they're gonna hold him for the sentencing, you know the same old routine. We'll take the floo in the morning."

Her response was only a sigh as she looked out towards the ocean. The sun was setting now from the ocean side café they were sitting at. Her finger's nimbly circling the rim of her cup as she returned to her thoughts. This had been happening more frequently now, her senses and reflex's dulling when she relied on them most. She was exhausted from the last few days, she knew that. Maybe when she returned to London her mind and body could rest properly. At least that is what she hoped.

 

* * *

 

 

"You've got to be joking!" Ron bellowed, his arms waving wildly in the air as he glared at the judge.

"Ron…" Hermione interjected, her hands trying to push down his arms as he scoffed but pulled out of her grasp.

"No Hermione. This is rubbish! It has to be a joke because this whole hearing has become completely mental."

"Mr. Weasley, I assure you this is no joke. The French have full right…"

"Full right to what? To our hard earnings?" Seamus's fists tightened as he took a step towards the bench.

Judge Lamont heaved a long sigh as his fingers pinched the bridge of his nose. He looked past them towards Hermione hoping to find reason.

"We are merely…confused, sir. It was under our presumption that Stoyan would have already been placed in Azkaban prior to our arrival. A lot of magical effort went into preparing his new cell. Now it all seems for naught." She spoke softly, even though underneath she was seething. What business did the French have with Stoyan?

"I'm sorry that you were misled. But the French have presented enough documentation to transfer Mr. Stoyan into their custody."

"Well that's not rubbish now is it? It's complete Bullocks!" Boomed Ron, slumping down in on the chairs, his arms folded over his chest. Hermione remained calm as she moved her way up to the bench, moving past Seamus's scowling form as Judge Lamont leaned forward towards her.

"If I could simply take a look at this…documentation, as you call it. I'm sure my partners and I will have a better understanding as to why this is happening."

"‘Zat will not be needed Mademoiselle Granger, 'ou can 'ave my full confid'ance that Monsieur Stoyan will be 'andled with the up most security my country can provide."

They turned towards the door as a man dressed in dark blue silk robes strolled lightly into the courtroom. He was tall with a medium build, his dark black hair neatly cut short with a streak of white in the front. He glared at Ron and Seamus as he passed them, his nose upturned until he reached Hermione, a Cheshire cat smile spreading across his lips.

"I 'ave 'eard so much of your adventurez, past un present. I am 'umbled to take this...'ow you say? _Menace_ off your 'ands."

Hermione could not help roll her eyes, who was this man? His condescending tone was what broke what little she had of her resolve.

"And you are?" She replied curtly.

"This is Monsieur Toussaint; he is one of the heads of the French Ministries Auror department." Beamed Lamont, obviously impressed by the man's presence. But Hermione refused to be swayed.

"Mr. Toussaint…"

"Please, call me Marcel." His smile grew wider, his tone laced with charm.

"…Marcel." Hermione continued, sighing in annoyance.

"Our team spent three days tracking Stoyan. Three days in a dingy, rat infested hostel. Two practically sleepless nights tracking this mans every move. I cannot recount to you his horrid pass times, but I can stress enough that these past few days have not been kind to us. We put in a lot of effort to capture him and it seems rather opportune for you and unfair to us that you can reap the rewards of all that work."

Toussaint's smile never faltered as he picked a speck from his robes and gazed from Hermione to Lamont, obviously unmoved by her words.

"We appreciate 'zee efforts of zee Aurorz department un 'ave taken your 'ard work into account. But 'is crimez first occurred under our jurisdiction, a very studious intern 'as informed me of that fact, it seemz as zou ‘zese documents 'ave been buried for quite some time. I'm sure you will excuze our tardiness in recognizing 'zis matter."

"Tardiness? You're bloody two years tardy" Ron retorted from his seat, scowl deepening. "You can't honestly tell me that you intend to be able to hold him. He's escaped from Azkaban over ten times in the last two years; I really don't think a facility with a name that practically describes "resort" can do much better."

Toussaint's smile faltered a bit, his head slightly turning but never fully acknowledging the seething red head behind him as his attention focused back to the judge.

"I assure 'ou Gwenaël is more 'zan capable of 'andling mossier Stoyan. From what I recall from 'is case file; Azkaban 'as had a hard time keeping 'im as well. Maybe a different setting would prove more successful, Non?"

Lamont nodded in agreement, giving Hermione an apologetic gaze. "He does have a point Miss Granger, there's no use in fighting this, you can't argue it anyway his documents have been cleared. He is the French's problem now. You will do well with this, I assure you. It's over now, you lot can move on.

She slightly shook when his gavel came down, sealing the finality almost. Her eyes closed as his words sunk in. They could move on, she could finally be rid of this nuisance and move on to the next case, something easier perhaps, something not so wearing on her mind. She looked over to Ron and Seamus who were practically seething as Toussaint made his exit; cursing under their breath and delivering less than kind hand gestures as he pushed past them. This is good. This is an ending. She told herself, slightly nodding to Lamont to thank him for his time as she followed Ron and Seamus out of the courtroom. It wouldn't be till later that she would realize she was wrong, this would only be the beginning.


	2. Native Tongues

Rules of Engagement

Chapter Two: Native Tongues

 

* * *

 

 

Hermione's fingers gently pulled on the fringe of her velvet seat as she languidly took in her surroundings. The opera house was in all senses of the word, extravagant. The deep burgundy intertwining with vibrant gold; her seat plush with feather down and encased with the softest velvet. She jolted slightly as coarse finger tips moved over her hand, ceasing her fidgeting.

"You're not really here are you?" Whispered Harry, his eyes still focused on the stage.

Hermione felt her cheeks blush as she gave her friend an apologetic glance before focusing towards the actors.

"I'm sorry, I'm trying. Work this week… it's been rather difficult."

She felt his fingers clasp hers, squeezing lightly before returning to his lap as he sighed thoughtfully.

"I know. I am the head of your department after all." He glanced at her then, his smile warm and comforting.

She chuckled softly. "Ah, yes of course. No wonder you were able to get such good seats."

His smile faltered slightly; eyes peering down on her attentively.

"You're the only person I know whose mind could possibly be somewhere else during Tosca; especially during the final act. I thought you would be happy having the French take Stoyan."

Hermione instantly seethed, her displeasure coming through in a low whisper.

"You knew of this? You knew and you said nothing?"

Harry's poster immediately straightened as he leaned back into his seat, Hermione's famous temper was flaring and he knew better than to take the offensive.

"I... It was in the gesture of a surprise…of sorts. I thought you'd be relieved."

"Relieved? To have all our hard work practically thrown into the garbage? Nearly two years wasted to be handed off to that retched French dog…Toussaint. Ugh, even his name is absolutely infuriating, sashaying into the court room as if he were Gabriel himself." She scoffed.

"I…I don't know, I found him rather…nice." Harry stuttered, his shoulders slightly shrugging.

"Of course you would, you and Lamont I swear; goo goo eye'd over a man who's probably never set foot into the field. They don't know how much work it takes, tracking, surveying, recon. You of all people should know Harry it's not easy work." She turned to him then; eyes blazing as he sighed, his gaze apologetic.

"Of course I know 'Mione. I was your partner before Seamus. Six months in Prague tracking the git. Three bruised ribs, a nasty case of flu from the ghastly weather there and a rash; which I to still this day suspect was from that horrid food at that hostel. I loathe the man as much as you do but you have to admit that maybe we were missing something, he always got away." Harry sighed, remembering his days as a field Auror before his promotion to a desk and a stack of incident reports that nearly buried him every day, most of them filed by Ron.

"I'm sorry Harry… I just… I have this feeling that it's not the end of it all. I thought I did, but I just know he's not going to go down without a fight. I feel as though we are the only ones who actually get it you know? The only ones that actually understand his ways, that takes him seriously enough to not tread lightly."

"Well then…it sounds you won't have much to worry about. Gwenaël is by all accounts and purposes a prison, but it's no Azkaban. From what we've seen from Stoyan I suspect he's most surely already half way done with his escape plan." Harry offered her a knowing smirk, gently resting his arm around her shoulder.

"If you knew of this then why even bother involving the French?" She glanced at his arm shrugging it off lightly to show she was still upset.

"I haven't seen you out of the office in months 'Mione, I thought you could use a little break. Maybe let him be their problem for a while? But if you are so insistent on continuing this…this 'case', I will not stand in your way."

Hermione scowled in slight confusion, eying him inquisitively. "I thought he was under French jurisdiction…"

Harry smiled and shrugged leaning back in his seat as he watched the actors take their bow. "He is…in France, but I suspect he would go anywhere the French couldn't touch him so easily. So staying there would be out of the question of course."

Hermione smiled triumphantly, she did so love having friends in higher places; most weren't privy to the knowledge of all the loop holes a head of the Auror's department had access to.

"So he would be…up for the highest bidder of sorts."

"Well…who ever can hold on to the slippery bastard, I suppose?" His smirk grew wider as he watched her revel in the new found knowledge.

"I'm assuming I'm not supposed to know any of this" Hermione whispered, shooting him a sideways glance as they stood.

"Know what?" said Harry as he shrugged, feigning oblivious.

 

* * *

 

 

The life of an Auror isn't easy but it held a certain amount of respect that one could be proud of as well as use in situations where one found the cards of fate not exactly dealing in their favor. It was because of this that Hermione, Ron and Seamus found themselves standing outside a dilapidated apartment complex in one of London's seediest neighborhoods two days later.

"So…what you're saying is; we're going to be just barely skimming the line of what the Ministry will and will not allow us?" Ron queried, his gaze traveling over the broken down swing set that was now rotting away in an abounded pool next to them.

"Well when you put it like that you make it sound as though I know this is somewhat wrong." Hermione replied, her eyebrow arching as she looked at Seamus.

"As long as you can get us out of guarding some pointless piece of parchment in the sub-basement of the Ministry; I'm happy for breaking any and all rules." Seamus chuckled as they made their way into the lobby.

"Good, I'm going to you need you lot. I'm sure you've heard the news of Stoyan's escape, he didn't even make it in the bloody cell before he cursed three of the guards." Hermione seethed.

"See it was just like I said: Gwenaël is practically a resort. Toussaint was pompous enough to think that he could handle the sorts of Stoyan." Ron scoffed as Seamus nodded in agreement.

"Did you see the picture of him on the front page? They practically mobbed the codder at his chateau when everyone got wind of the news. He looked as though he was about to bust out of his silk linings he was so livid."

They all laughed as they made their way up the creaking stairs and down the moldy hallway to apartment 16F. They had been here many times; the need for stealth had been deemed unneeded. Magnus Birger was in all accounts: Harmless. If anyone would know where Stoyan would be heading to next it would be him. His unthreatening nature made him a rather good sneak and eavesdropper in the muggle and magical worlds.

Hermione gently pushed her way towards the door just before Ron knocked.

"Ron…maybe I should knock. You and Seamus were not exactly very welcoming the last time we saw him."

"Hey, he tried to touch you; he knows the rules. I don't care if he's sweet on you in his own sick little way but he's got to learn he's going to get whomped if he even breathes on you."

"Aye, he's right creepy with all that Hermione. Besides I'm sure he's healed by now." Seamus said, giving Ron a smirk as Hermione knocked, shaking her head begrudgingly. The door opened slowly, the scent of old books and rotting flowers filling their nostrils. A pair of frightened blue eyes peered through the crack before softening, the door swinging wide open.

"Ah! Hermione Granger, underbart! Welcome, välkomna! Please come in!" beamed Magnus.

He was a short, middle aged man with wavy blonde hair, a Swedish accent as thick as his eyebrows. Magnus's smile faltered as he took notice of the two wizards behind her.

"Oh…I see you've brought your dogs as well."

Ron rolled his eyes, pushing past Hermione and grabbing the informer by his vest roughly.

"Watch your mouth you Swedish rat. This isn't a social call so stop you're drooling and let us through." He tossed the man aside, straightening his jacket as Seamus sneered past him.

"To what do I owe this increasingly stressful visit?" Magnus glared at the two men before returning his attention to Hermione, pulling out a rickety wooden chair and blowing dust from the seat; motioning for her to sit.

"Penko Stoyan. We need to know what his next move is." She smiled graciously as he handed her a cup of tea, fully ignoring Ron and Seamus as he sat across from her.

"I… I wouldn't know anything about that I'm afraid. It's been a rather dry month." His hands clasped together nervously as he averted her gaze.

"Now you know that's a lie, Magnus. I thought we were past this? You'd be well taken care of, galleons or pounds you can trust the Ministry to pay handsomely."

He chuckled softly as he fidgeted with the fringe on his vest, licking his lips in thought.

"It is not that I doubt your word. I would never; min dyrbara, but I cannot. I have been…restricted from giving out this information. I have already said too much."

"That's it!" Ron growled as he moved towards the man, his fists clenched but stopped when Hermione gestured for him to stay back. She leaned over the table, touching Magnus's hand softly as she spoke.

"Now is that anyway to treat an old friend? Have I been replaced so easily, min vackra vän?"

Magnus's cheeks reddened, clearly impressed by the young witches grasp of his native tongue.

"You've been learning. You speak as though you were a national. I've always admired you're intelligence… and incredible grace." He swooned, putting his hand over hers.

Seamus and Ron both rolled their eyes and groaned, earning a glare from both her and Magnus.

"As have I for you Magnus, so please show your dybara where your loyalties lie."

Magnus heaved a long sigh, begrudgingly pulling his hand away from hers to retrieve a pen from his breast pocket.

"An Auror from the French Ministry came to see me last night; she brought money… a lot of money. She said part of the payment was to not divulge this information to you; so you must understand my hesitance. You have been so kind to me, unlike all the others. So how could I deny you this?" He confessed as he scrawled a few notes on a discarded napkin.

"She reminded me a lot of you: beautiful and intelligent in every way. She left me… disarmed. But I still prefer you, I hope you know this."

She smiled graciously as she took the napkin from him, taking note of nervousness in his tone and scribbled hand writing. "Thank you Magnus. Just one more thing, you wouldn't have happened to catch her name or anything that could be of help to us?"

He thought for a moment, his yellow teeth grinding together as he shook his head.

"No she refused. But her looks were very striking from what I can recall. She had very long, beautiful blonde hair; almost silver in the sunlight. The most incredible blue eyes I've ever seen."

He chuckled softly. "I remember thinking she would be the perfect archetype of one of my own if her accent hadn't given her away."

"Well…thank you. I'll keep this between us, I assure you. We must take our leave though, duty calls." She sighed, gently squeezing his hand before gesturing Ron and Seamus to follow. He watched them go, longingly holding his hand to his chest as the door shut behind them.

"I can't believe you touched the sniveling rat." Ron said in disgust as they made their way down the hallway.

"You get more flies with honey than vinegar Ronald. You and Seamus should learn that. His eye still looks ghastly thanks to you lot, you too should be ashamed of yourselves."

Ron looked at Seamus who simply shrugged nonchalantly as they exited the apartment building.

 

* * *

 

Heat. All she could feel was incredible, unrelenting heat. She watched as a bead of sweat moved down the bridge of her nose, carelessly hanging from the tip only to be bumped off as their taxi driver maneuvered over the poorly paved road.

"You know Hermione, when you said to us, 'Hey boys, how about some tropical weather?' I was under the impression we'd actually be in tropical weather, or maybe even in the tropics. You seemingly failed to mention how far we actually would be from any cool breeze what so ever." Ron said, eyeing her down as he tried to adjust in his seat. The red headed wizard was covered in sweat, his complexion resembling the hue of his hair.

"Actually what I said was tropical like weather, Ronald. I never said we'd be in the tropics." She corrected grimacing as his elbow moved uncomfortably into her side. "And stop squirming; you're right in my kidney for Merlin's sake."

"Well this is far from the apple tree, this isn't just heat Hermione this is humid. Straight to the point; hot as dragon's breath humid." Seamus groaned; his face beaded with sweat as they hit another pot hole.

"And could this …whatever you call it…'taxi' be any smaller? Ron and I are practically snogging!"

"You really think being pushed up against you with that horrid cologne you wear; practically suffocating me is any better?" Ron retorted, shoving his elbow in to Seamus. Hermione rolled her eyes as the two continued their shoving match, the small taxi rocking back and forth as they stopped in front of run down hotel.

She had decided to start with the first location on Magnus's notes, Tangier, Morocco. "Stop it you two or I'll hex you both! We're here for the day, that's it. Magnus's notes said Penko has an old contact here. We find him, we know where Stoyan's headed. I'm sure you can stand the heat for thirteen more hours."

They peeled themselves from the cabs leather seats, she would honestly be glad when they could leave this over populated oven they deemed a city, the thick air made her dizzy and the heat was almost unbearable.

The hotel wasn't any better on the inside. The smell of mold and rotting paint surrounded them as she rang the bell for the attendant; its tone slightly flat and muffled from overuse. A lanky Moroccan man came from the back, lazily pulling the check in book out of the drawer next to him.

"Bonjour, comment puis-je vous aider?" He sighed.

"Um, nous sommes à la recherche d'un locataire, room 30B." Hermione had always struggled with the French language; she took note that as soon as this was over she would put much more effort into studying it. The trio stood there impatiently as the man yawned, nonchalantly flipping through the registry.

"30B chambre, oui. un monsieur ... Sergey… Boyko. You want me… leave message?"

She shook her head and smiled graciously, motioning for Ron and Seamus to move up the stairs as she removed her wand.

"Non merci, though I do have one more question…" She leaned forward on the counter gesturing for him to come closer. The clerk sighed, his eyes looking towards the back at the soccer match on the television that he was no doubtingly missing because them.

Finally he begrudgingly obliged. "If you don't want…room or leave message… I ha-" His words caught in his throat as Hermione pressed her wand against his temple, wisps of white smoked curling around it as she took his memory. The clerk's eyes rolled upwards, his head slamming down flat against the desk.

"Sorry mate, protocols and all." She shrugged, ripping the page from the registry as she made her way to the stairs. Ron and Seamus had already taken their positions on either side of the door, 30B drawn in thick black ink on the front.

"Give him a nice nap then, 'Mione?"

"You know I hate doing that Ron, but it's better than knocking him around." She sighed, pushing her wand against the cast iron lock.

"Alohomara" The sound metal scraping against metal echoed through the hallway as the door unlatched.

She looked to Seamus and Ron before slowly pushing the door open with her wand.

The apartment was basic needs at best. A shabby bed was pushed into the corner, the sheets in disarray with small and rather ancient television set sitting on top of a soda crate, faint static on the screen. The kitchen looked as though it was the size of a closet, the spigots rusted through as brown droplets fell in cadence from the spout. She traced a line of dust along the dresser as Ron and Seamus moved in, searching the other rooms. The old worn cabinet was covered with passports, old ID photos, and an array of foreign money. She turned one of the cards in her hand; his face was oddly familiar, not a prominent face but one you'd remember in passing.

"What are you doing here?" A thick Bulgarian accent jolted her. She quickly spun around with her wand drawn and was greeted by calm yet questioning eyes.

"Sergey Boyko… My name is-"

"Hermione Granger. You may be just another face to ‘Dese muggles but I know who you are. You can tell ‘Dem to come out its okay, I'm unarmed…obviously." He gestured to the towel that was wrapped around his waist. She nodded slowly as Ron and Seamus moved from the shadows, wands still drawn.

"I… I know you. I thought your name looked familiar. Merlin, you used to play for the Bulgarians." Ron exclaimed.

"Aye, you were the best seeker they ever had." Seamus muttered, his eyes fully taking in the rooms state. The man that stood before them was still in good shape, he looked as though he'd never aged. His hair buzzed short, the famous Bulgarian logo tattooed on the back of his neck. A man that years before was king now hiding away under other's alias's, living in a rat infested hotel covered in mold and rust.

"Správny, I was. Till Krum of course." He slightly shrugged, his hand moving to the towel to hold it up. "But ‘Dat was a long time ago, before wars and bad choices. I've already told you all ‘Dat I know. I don't know where Penko is."

Hermione blinked then, slightly shaking her head as she eyed him carefully.

"Someone was here before us?"

"Another Auror, she just left. I was lucky enough for her to catch me in ‘De bath." He chuckled softly as he rubbed his chin, a smirk playing across his lips. She lowered her wand, nodding slowly as she weighed her options. He was lying, she knew this; but if they left now they could catch up to the French agent that was vastly becoming a thorn in their side. She could confront her, maybe with Ron and Seamus at her side she could even get her to back down.

"Well…it seems that we've gotten all we can then. Sorry for barging in like this." She quickly slipped one of the ID's into her pocket before he could notice, nodding her head for the two wizards to follow her out.

"How could I mind? Two beautiful women come to see me in one day, feels like ‘De old days."

He followed them to the door, gently wrapping his hand around Hermione's arm; she tensed instantly, gripping her wand in her pocket.

"Take care Miss Granger, I hope you find what you're looking for." His smirk was cocky, his eyes gleaming with something she couldn't place. She noted to herself she'd have to deal with him later; there were more pressing matters at hand. They only had minutes to catch up to this mystery woman and she would be damned if she was going to let the trail go cold.

 


	3. Running Scared: Part One

Rules of Engagement

 

Chapter Three: Running Scared (Part One)

 

* * *

 

The hotel exited to a three-way street, Ron opted to split up; the two wizards taking the lower paths as Hermione took the high towards the market. She moved through the crowded alleyway in discomfort; the aroma of coriander and curry invading her scenes as a rush of heat overwhelmed her. It had been unbearable outside but now surrounded by crowds of people, each pushing past her, it felt as though she were in an oven; each collision only driving the heat faster and hotter. Her wand glowed from inside her pocket; a very useful spell she had learned from Olivander the summer after the war. She could track other wands energy if they were close, the closer she got the brighter the light. Her steps abruptly stopped when the wand’s light ebbed and then brightened again as she passed an alleyway to her left. Steeling herself and her grip on her wand, she slowly made her way down the new path.

Eventually the path emptied, the sound of bird's wings fluttering over her as her wand guided her further from the market. It was darker on this side of the city, the buildings around her too tall to allow much sun. She faintly registered a slight chill, either from the lack of sunlight or her nerves; she was hoping it wasn't the latter. The glow grew ever brighter as she found an open doorway into one of the clay structures. For the first time she didn't have a plan, merely following her instinct as she slowly made her way up the stairs. The sound of cracking glass made her turn sharply, a shadow fading further into the hall.

She followed with her wand out in front of her as her eyes darted back and forth to each corner; her breath becoming shallower as she neared the end of the hall. The window at the end was broken, glass resting on the outside of the sill. Her eyes rolled at the obvious insult of her intelligence.

"Come on…where are you? I know you're still here." She whispered as she circled the tip of her wand around the shards on the window sill. Her senses heightened then; sidestepping quickly, merely escaping the grasp of a lithe arm reaching from the darkness. Her cloaked assailant struck at her swiftly, Hermione barely escaping each thrust of the skilled hand as her back hit the adjacent wall. She aimed her wand, but it was knocked from her, the sharp swooshing sound ringing in her ears as she watched it fly out the window. Her body moved on its own accord, pulling away from the wall and blocking another blow as they continued down the dark hall. Whoever her cloaked attacker was they were good. Anticipating all of Hermione's counter attacks and blocking as she backed stepped further; almost tripping over the upturned rug at her feet.

Her stomach lurched as she felt herself starting to lose balance only to be pulled back up by the front of her shirt by her attacker. She faintly registered the sound of her blouse buttons colliding with the ground as she was thrown through the doorway of one of the apartments.

Her back collided hard against the door as it swung open, her body flying into the living room as her feet slipped and skidded across the concrete floor; all the while blocking and dodging the skilled hands as they tried to grasp and push her further into the house. She fell back against the kitchen's island, her body reacting instinctively as she pushed her arms against the edge and used her feet to kick her attacker to the ground. The movement was swift and calculated as if expected; her attacker falling back on their hands and quickly kicking themselves back up, their hood pulling back slightly as blonde tendrils peeked through the top. They stood there, bodies heaving, Hermione's arms held up defensively as the sound of their breath filled the living room.

"I see ze Ministry 'as taught you 'and to 'and, surprisingly you are quite capable."

Hermione knew that voice, her eyes widened as her body instinctively moved forward, her fingers clasping the hood and pulling it back roughly.

"Fleur!"

She was greeted with an impish grin as the older witch crossed her arms and casually leaned against the doorway.

"Oiu, sorry for ze 'cloak and daggers' routine. It waz merely instinct till I realized 'oo you were."

"Yet you continued? Wait, you're the Auror from the French Ministry? You?" Hermione nearly screeched her hands clasping her torn blouse. She was offered another shrug, the blonde witch's gaze roaming around the apartment to the ground, the scuff marks from their bout still evident in the bits of sand scattered across the floor.

"I waz impressed, I wazn't actually trying to 'urt you. I'm sorry; I should have said something but… Mon dieu! You are quite ze spectacle on your feet. Besides if I had stopped you would 'ave 'exed me, wand or not; we both know zat." Fleur tutted, here finger moving back and forth in a punitive manner.

Hermione merely glared, her eyes shifting to the hall as Fleur followed her gaze. The blonde witch cleared her throat and nodded knowingly her hands moving into her robe pockets as she looked to her feet. "Oh and I also apologize for your wand. But you 'ad it practically shoved in my face what waz I supposed to do?"

"I don't know? Maybe not let me think I'm about to be murdered and this was a fight for my life? Maybe letting me know the git practically ruining my case was how do you say? Vous, instead of running scared."

Hermione's eyebrow arched as Fleur chuckled softly. The French Auror shaking her head as the muscle in her jaw flexed; obviously hitting a nerve.

"I waz not 'running zcared, 'as you say; an Auror does not run from conflict."

"Yet here we are, at least three kilometers from Boyko's place; and yes I know of your little plan to throw me off. Paying off my informant? Really, have the French decided to stoop so low?" She spat but instinctively backed up as Fleur kicked off the wall, instantly a few inches away from the younger witch in just a few strides; her eyes blazing.

"I waz only doing what my job required of me, you seem to forget exactly oo's case zis is 'Ermione Granger. You are zee one interfering not, Moi."

"I… this was my case first, you can't expect me to stand idly by…" Hermione replied stiffly as Fleur gently pushed her hands from her blouse, her fingertip tracing from hem to collar as pearl white buttons popped up in succession.

"Pleaze also take my apology for zis, you were falling I 'ad no'zing else to grab." Fleur whispered; her tone exasperated as she pulled away from Hermione's space.

"You….you still haven't answered me, why were you running from me?" She breathed, trying to pretend not to be impressed by the older witch's obvious grasp on wandless magic. Hermione's ears rang as Fleur's breathy laughter sang through the deserted apartment.

"Pleaze; I knew you weren't far behind me, I waz merely trying to even zee playing field. I wazn't running from you darling; I waz trying to get far enough from zem." Fleur nodded towards the window in the kitchen as she shrugged off her robes. The younger witch's brows furrowed as she looked to the window behind her. Three men were making their way across the adjacent roofs from all sides, their dark clothes harshly standing out from the local apparel as they reached the neighboring building; clearly out of breath. Hermione's jumped when she heard a loud crack and turned towards Fleur who had taken one of the homes brooms and kicked the bristled edge off to form a point.

"I would find zomething appropriate for zee occasion mademoiselle, FGranger, I too am without my wan-" The blonde witch began before being cut off as a swift blue bolt hit the wall next to her.

"Zou I cannot say ze same for zem."

 


	4. Running Scared: Part Duex

Rules of Engagement

 

Chapter Three: Running Scared (Part Duex)

 

* * *

 

Hermione never wanted to be known for breaking rules. In fact before she had met Harry and Ron she was very well versed in following them. Even at Hogwarts she had rarely found herself being disciplined aside from the year Umbridge had taken over. The feeling of disobedience was foreign to her, which was why now; under Harry's seething gaze she found herself shifting uncomfortably, the same could not be said for her partners. Ron smiled sheepishly at her when he caught her eyes; hair still drenched as tiny water droplets cascaded down his clothes, creating a puddle around his seat. Her stare turned to Seamus, his water soaked clothes clinging to him as he yawned indifferently, pulling at loose threads from his button up; obviously well versed in these proceedings. Her musing ceased as Harry cleared his throat harshly.

"I…I'm at a loss, really I am. I have no words." He breathed, leaning back in his chair as his eyes searched the set of three in front of him.

"I've been at this post for a good while now and I can honestly say I have never had to deal with anything quite like this." His fingers thrummed against the large stack of papers sitting on his desk as he shook his head in disbelief. The trio's eyes traveled to the formidable stack of documents then back to him.

"Oh… do you happen to know what all this is? Would you like to? I could read it for you but I really don't see the reason since you lot should know what all of this entails. I mean you were all bloody well the cause of it." He fumed.

"Well…we uh…it wasn't exactly all our fault Harry. I mean… it says right there right? I mean you do see we tried to do everything by the book really." Ron stuttered out, the Aurors on either side of him nodding silently.

"Really, you tried everything, everything in your power? Because from what it says on page…forty...odd something, I really do think that three hundred thousand pounds…yes POUNDS, in damage to muggle vehicles could have been avoided. That's just me of course." Harry retorted; his teeth grinding together as he eyed the red headed wizard down.

"What Ron is trying to say Harry is that… the situation which we had found ourselves in had called for some rather drastic actions?" Hermione intervened.

"Well I don't think drastic quite wholly describes what has happened here. You lot think your bloody James Bond, is that what it is? Gallivanting around the world, blowing up whole city blocks?"

Seamus cleared his throat as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"Come on boyo. It was only three uh...vehicles? And it wasn't a whole city block now; a quarter, maybe a half even but not whole. Plus 'Mione told you, Fl-"

Harry held his hand up then cutting the Irishman off.

"Yes, I'm well aware of Miss Delacour's involvement, but she is not my responsibility. Unfortunately …you…lot…are." He sighed, his fingers rubbing his temples.

"Now I'm going to ask you again and this time I want only one of you to speak at a time, understand?"

The trio nodded obediently.

"What the bloody hell happened in Morocco?"

The two men next to her turned towards her, their eyes beseeching as she sighed knowing full and well it was up to her now.

"Well... as I said before; we weren't armed so naturally we resorted to whatever we could find…"

 

* * *

 

Hermione's eyes widened in panic; her body slowly moving backwards as one of the men gave her a malicious smirk, his lips pursing into a kiss. She was pulled into the hall by the back of her blouse, her breath coming out in a huff as she was pushed against a wall next to one of the hall windows. Fleur positioned herself on the other side as she moved a finger over her lips and flipped the staff expertly to its blunt end.

"Fleur what the hell are we doing? You can't possibly think we can win here?" Hermione whispered.

"Ave you no grasp one what 'shh' means Granger." Fleur whispered back, gripping the staff tighter as she eyed the window.

"Oh I'm sorry, do you have a plan? Because as I can see we are out-numbered and out gunned." Hermione replied incredulously.

"Tsk tsk, no trust? I'll make it even don't worry; you can't 'ave a plan for every'zing. I prefer to 'ow you say? Wing it."

"Wing it? What do you mean wing-" She was cut off as one of the assailants burst through the window. Fleur quickly stepped into action; hitting him across the jaw and then his stomach with the make-shift staff, before kicking him back out the window. Hermione stared in horror as the man cried out before hitting what she assumed was the ground floor. A loud crash reverberated around them as the sound of a car alarm rang through the street.

"Fleur! Dear Merlin what are you doing?"

The blonde witch simply rolled her eyes as she pulled Hermione to the window, pointing down with the staff. The man was strewn over a parked car, groaning in pain as locals rushed to investigate. 

"Oh please, 'e is fine. It's only a two story drop, 'Ermione really. I would 'ave 'exed him if I 'ad my wand but as they say, desperate times, non?" 

Hermione merely stared at her in disbelief; the paperwork for this alone would take weeks. The Ministry severely frowned on making scenes in front of muggles. Her missions had always gone on behind the scenes, planning for weeks just so they could execute captures without anyone else being the wiser. Fleur had just thrown all of that out the window, literally. 

"Where in the bloody hell did they even come from? Why are they chasing you?"

Fleur lightly shrugged as she gazed out the window to see the other two men move to the other side of the building. 

"Boyko and I... we 'ave... a rather troubled 'istory. Sending zese goons after me is actually ra'zer insulting, I z'ought we could talk it out but I guess not." She sighed indifferently as she pulled Hermione to the next room, slamming the door behind her. "Now be quiet, they're coming and I really 'ave no more patience for questions. Go 'ide over zer and wait for my mark."

The younger witch was slightly taken aback, she was not accustomed to being given orders but all the same she did what she was told, grabbing one of the knives from the kitchen and hiding behind the island. The door swung open then as two men walked in cautiously. They were almost identical, dressed in dark black tunics and slim cut dress pants. It was then Hermione's eyes caught the distinct Bulgarian's logo tattooed on the back of one of the bigger of the two's neck, his partner sporting the same ancient scrawl on his forearm. 

"súložiť! Where is dat little bitch!" Boomed the larger man, his fists clenching as he scanned the room. 

"Patience, Emil. ‘Dey're still here, listening... waiting. Isn't dat right pretties? Come out and we talk, maybe you explain what happen to our friend properly, hm?" His voice was softer than but still just as menacing as his partners, obviously being the more experienced of the three, well now two. 

"Patience Kosta? I have none left for ‘Dat French suka! She just threw Mitre two stories, he could have died! I'm going to break ‘Dem; do you hear me you little bitch? You and your friend have nowhere else to run." 

Kosta only chuckled lightly, resting his hands behind his back as he strolled around the apartment.

"Remember Sergey has plans for ‘Dem, it must look like accident. You mustn't get carried away." He said, casually making his way to the bedroom as Emil moved to the kitchen. Hermione's back straightened against the barrier as she gripped the knife tighter. She turned the back of blade against her forearm and held her breath as the younger Bulgarians footsteps stopped at the front of the island. Kosta returned from the bedroom and made his way to the living room closet door, smirking at his partner before kicking the door open. He was immediately hit in his stomach and pushed back as Fleur emerged from the enclosure, sending another blow to the man's jaw causing him to double over in pain. 

Emil growled, withdrawing his wand just as Hermione moved from behind the island, she swiftly kicked him to the ground from behind brandishing the knife against the back his neck, the tip pushing into the back of his tattoo.

"Your wand...now, or I'll run you z'roo." Fleur demanded, pushing Kosta's head up by his chin with the pointed edge of the staff. Reluctantly he held his wand out, the staff's point pushing harder into his neck as Fleur grabbed the magical instrument and threw it across the room. 

"Eermione, please discard of Monsieur Nayden's wand. Do not try to use it, zer is a rebound spell. I 'ad to find that out ze 'ard way, non?" She sneered. The younger witch simply nodded, taking the wand from Emil's tight grip and throwing it out the kitchen window.

"Ah yes, how is dear Albert? I hear ‘Der is little chance he will ever wake, tsk such a shame to see youth wasted; isn't it Emil?" Kosta chuckled as his partner smirked. 

"Se taire! You do not say his name in my presence." Fleur choked out as she pulled Kosta to his feet. 

"You my dear are too ruled by emotion. ‘Dey come and ‘Dey go, it is the nature of our jobs, no matter how different ‘Dey seem to be; if you would only realize ‘Dis. But I guess ‘Dat is the drawback of putting a woman at such a high standard." He sneered, gripping the staff and breaking it as he slid back and kicked one of the dining tables legs out, taking a swift swing at the French Auror who moved back, barely dodging it. Hermione watched the exchange in panic as Emil swiveled his head and back peddled across the floor to pull free from her grasp. She let out a strangled growl, holding the knife out in front of her as he sashayed towards her. 

"Do you even know what to do with ‘Dat little one?" Emil chuckled as her eyes went from him to Fleur, who was pushed against the wall by Kosta, the table's leg crushing her neck. Her attention returned to the younger man as he reached into his pockets brandishing two ornate blades. 

"I... sort of dabble with knives myself." He chuckled, twirling the blades expertly as he moved towards her. She lunged at him only to have him side step out the way, his wrist flicking and expertly cutting her arm causing the witch wince in pain as they backed through the kitchen and into the study. 

"You must always keep your position when dueling, never forget ‘Dat. Never take your eye from your opponent." His tone was mocking as Hermione's vision narrowed; she stood straight and let out a long breath. 

"Are you going to talk all day or are we going to get this done? I have a thirteen hour window and I'm never late for check in." She provoked. Emil growled, lunging at her again, the blade nearly missing her throat as she moved her head back and swung the kitchen knife forward slicing his cheek. The Bulgarian cried out in pain but attacked again, his pace growing quicker and more frantic as Hermione countered each of his attacks. The room filled with dust as they lunged and dodged one another, feet sliding across the dirt covered floor. He then pushed her against the wall; his knives eliciting sparks against it, jabbing each time towards her head as she dodged expertly until her foot collided with his stomach, sending his body flying against one of the book shelves. 

They stood there for a moment; the sound of their ragged breath filling the room as they stared each other down. Emil's hand crossed his cheek, a low growl moving past his lips as he inspected crimson liquid between his fingers. Hermione offered a smirk before she moved off the wall, taking her position again, motioning for him to come forward. The Bulgarian growled fiercely then lunging his left towards her as she dodged out of the way, the knife piercing through the concrete wall. She skillfully moved behind him as he tried to pry the instrument free, her hand gripping the back of his head and slamming it into the wall and then grabbing his wrist and twisting, causing the blade to break off inside of the barrier. She quickly flew back as he swung his body around, his other blade nearly missing her chest. Emil grimaced as he gripped his wrist, popping the bones back into place.

"You're not as harmless as you look môj krásny." He confessed as he cracked his neck. "But you will mind me." 

He lurched forward towards her, pushing her hard against the wall again, causing her to drop her weapon. She grasped at his wrist as his blade came inches from her face, Emil groaning in frustration as he pushed more of his weight against her. She let out a strangled breath as she felt the tip move across her cheek and quickly kicked at his feet causing him to stagger back. She made a move for her knife but was cut off when Emil kicked it from her; lunging at her again. Her body moved on instinct yet again, rolling out of the way; a plum dust bellowing around them as her back hit the ancient book case hard. Her mind reeled as she felt for anything to defend herself with. She could hear him move and quickly grabbed two thick books by their spine from book shelf behind her, clamping them together around the blade that shot through the cloud of dust towards her chest. 

Her eyes met Emil's shocked gaze before slamming one of the books against his temple and using the other to jab into his neck. The assassin let out a strangled choke as he moved back, Hermione surging through the cloud of dust and striking him again across his face with the thick tome causing him to fall on his back. She straddled him, hitting his face again and pushing the books spine against his neck, trapping his knife wielding arm with the other as she pushed her weight forward. She felt her muscles pop and strain as he pushed against her, her body rocking from side to side as Emil's legs kicked wildly underneath her. His other hand pushed against her frantically, gripping the base of her neck and pushing up. He let out a strangled cry as she bit his fingers fiercely, moving more of her weight onto the book that was enclosed around his neck. She had no idea where this new found strength had come from but she resigned it to adrenaline as she watched the Bulgarians complexion become paler.

"That's enough!"

Her head turned swiftly to see Kosta, his hand gripping Fleur's shoulder tightly as his wand pressed hard into her neck. 

"Let him go or I'll slice her throat raw." He seethed. Hermione's gaze fell to Fleur's; the blonde witch shook her head, pleading for her not to give up. She looked a wreck; her left eye was bruised with cuts and scrapes cascading over her face and lips. Hermione sighed in defeat, moving off Emil and dropping the books as she raised her hands in the air.

* * *

 

 

Hermione shook her head at the memory, ignoring the awe struck looks from the wizards beside her.

"I ...Harry, I don't know what I would have done if Kosta hadn't shown up." She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"It was in the heat of the moment 'Mione, he was trying to kill you. Anyone of us would have done the same." Harry replied, breaking his stern demeanor before sighing and leaning back in his chair. 

"So when you stopped, it says here they took you?"

She nodded slowly, replaying the memory back in her mind.

* * *

 

 

"They took us and led us through the market, I had so many chances to run but I couldn't leave Fleur, so I let them put me in one of the cars they had waiting..."

Hermione grimaced as she pulled at her restraints, the rope seeming only to get tighter as she tried to wiggle free. Fleur was facing the window, her expression stoic as the scenery outside changed from city to country side. The black Mercedes sped past the sign acknowledging the city limits as Hermione searched her mind for anything that could help them.

"What's going to happen now?" she whispered, eyeing Kosta and Emil in the front seat. They were discussing something animatedly in their native tongue, Emil pushing his injured hand into Kosta's face as the older man rolled his eyes. Fleur blinked, slowly being brought out of her thoughts as she lazily turned her head to the younger Auror.

"I do not know, mostly likely zey'll kill us; I just 'aven't quite figured 'ow yet." She sighed calmly. 

Hermione stared at Fleur in shock. 

"H...How can you be so calm? They're to going to kill us unless we think of something." 

The blonde witch licked her bruised lips in thought, slightly wincing from the sharp pain it emitted. 

"When zey let us out I want you to run, I'll distract zem long enough for you to get away." 

Hermione shook her head, pulling ever harder on her restraints. 

"No, I'm not leaving you. I can't-" 

Fleur laughed softly as she shook her head.

"Zey want me not you darling, zis is my mess I must deal with it." 

The younger witch scoffed. 

"It stopped being your mess when that psycho tried to gut me like a stuffed pig...I'll figure something out, I know I can."

Fleur merely hummed in indifference as her gaze returned to the window, it was moments later until she spoke again.

"You will give Bill my love won't you? It's been so long since ze divorce; I don't correspond with him as much az I should. I would feel terrible if 'e z'ought I did not care."

Hermione's expression became sullen. She shook her head again as she eyed the two men up front.

"Fleur you'll tell him yourself, he still loves you, you know? When we get out of this I'm sure you two can work something out."

The French witch's soft laugh floated through Hermione's ears as Fleur's eyes returned to hers, her long silvery hair cascading around her features. There was something in older witch's eyes that Hermione couldn't place. 

"We 'ave already worked on zese zings 'Ermione, we just 'ave a mutual understanding of what we were and what we are now..." 

They looked upon each other, Fleur's eyes closing briefly before she took a long breath and let it out. Her eyes enveloped in sadness and slight regret. 

"Do you remember ze cottage?" She began. Hermione's features softened as she nodded slowly. 

"Zat time was very difficult for me, with ze war and... and with you." 

Fleur's eyes searched hers, pleading for understanding. 

"I...I don't quite follow, what do you mean?" Hermione breathed inquiringly. 

"Ugh, Mon dieu 'Ermione..." Fleur sighed heavily, her eyes searching the sedans cloth ceiling for a moment before returning the younger witch. 

"I... ze reason I left... what 'appened with William... was because I-" 

They suddenly lurched forward as they were struck from behind their sedan swerving as Emil gripped the wheel, glaring through the rear view mirror. Hermione followed his gaze; a black Range Rover slammed into them again, Seamus' form protruding out of the passenger side window. His wand aimed squarely at the tires; he fired a bolt of bright gold, hitting the driver's side panel. Hermione and Fleur turned to each other in shock. 

"Yours?" The blonde witch yelped as they slammed forward again, Hermione letting out a relieved sigh as she laughed. 

"Thank Merlin yes, mine!" 

"Kosta, do something! ‘Dey'll run us off ‘De road!" Emil screamed trying to hold control; groaning as he steadied the car, his injured hand clamping down on the steering wheel. Seamus motioned to go faster as the sedan sped up. Ron slammed down on the gas; matching the Mercedes speed, Seamus's crooked smirk meeting the two Bulgarians scowl. Emil veered the car towards them as Ron swerved in time and swung back, slamming the sides of the vehicles together as Kosta shielded his eyes from the shards of glass splintering out from his window. 

The cars slammed and pulled from one another again and again as they sped down the country side road. 

"I have an idea! It's not brilliant but I just need get close enough to the wanker!" Seamus shouted; moving back out the window and sitting on the edge as he aimed his wand. 

"Crush him!" Shouted Kosta as a red bolt skimmed his cheek, narrowly missing him and shattering the wind shield. Emil grunted in frustration, swerving the car once again towards Seamus's protruding figure; the Irishman quickly moved inside and fired rapidly as Fleur and Hermione ducked down in the back seat, glass cascading all around them. 

"Are zey mad?" Fleur exclaimed. Hermione simply offered a shrug, her expression amused. 

"Slightly, this is usually how they handle things if I'm indisposed. You know... winging it?" 

Seamus lurched forward out the window as they pulled alongside the sedan again, grabbing Kosta's tunic and pulling fanatically. Emil watched in panic, merely avoiding a partition as he swerved in the opposite direction, the men barely skimming the top as the force shot them slightly upwards then back down. Kosta's hand wrapped around the young Irishman's arm, twisting fiercely as he tried to wrench the wand from his hand. Seamus screamed in pain, delivering a hard blow across the Bulgarians jaw as he tried to free himself. 

"Uh... Seamus... uh... we got a problem." The redheaded wizard shouted as he pointed ahead. Both men turned swiftly to spot a bridge, a large checkpoint tower stationed in the middle. 

"I'm going to split you in half you úbohý pes!" Kosta chortled, his grip tightening as he pulled the young wizard further out of the SUV's window.

"Feck off you right prick, let me go!" Seamus's fist collided with the older man's jaw again as he tried to jerk his arm out of the vice like grip, the guard tower pending ever closer. The sleeve of his button up tore as he used his whole body to jerk back, his wand firing off in response. The sedan served wildly as Emil's form went limp, his head cracking a spider web like pattern against the driver's side window. Kosta growled, reluctantly letting go of the wizard as he tried to control the wheel. Seamus quickly arched his back as Ron grabbed the rear of his belt, pulling hard. The Irish wizard winced as his face came within inches of the check point station, wind gusting against his cheek as Ron pulled him back inside. 

"Bloody hell, I didn't know you could bend that way mate!" Ron exclaimed as Seamus writhed in pain. 

"I can't you arse, I think you broke my bloody back!" 

Kosta steered with one arm as he aimed his wand with the other only to have it jerked out of his hand as a pair of lithe legs wrapped around his neck from the back seat.

He frantically gripped the wheel, the car swerving uncontrollably. Fleur only tightened her grip as the front end collided with the median, the sedan spinning wildly, finally careening through the barrier and off the bridge.

Hermione felt weightless. She was in slow motion as her stomach lurched into her throat; faintly registering Fleur and Kosta still struggling in her peripheral as he tried to pry the blonde's legs from his neck. Water rushed in suddenly like the beginnings of a monsoon it came without warning, a light sprinkle at first then surging to a harsh force pushing the air from her lungs and completely enveloping them. Her world went black, her body floating for what seemed like hours before she felt herself being pulled up. 

Strong arms wrapped around her stomach as her watery realm swirled around her. Water rushed past her ears till she felt a sudden burst of air, the coldness prickling her skin. Faintly she heard her name and felt course lips over hers; filling her lungs with carbon dioxide until she finally choked out the offensive warm liquid from her throat.

Ron's cold fingers caressed her cheek, his breath coming out raggedly against her neck as he murmured incoherently, thanking every higher power he could think of. Hermione's eyes strained against the light as she slowly came to, her head falling to the side to see Seamus' standing over Fleur, cutting the French woman's restraints.

"Ron...how...how did you even-"She choked out, more water spilling from her lips.

"You think you're the only one Olivander taught that spell to?" He smirked, pulling her wand out of his pants pocket. "We found your wand outside and saw them pushing you into that car. Somebodies gotta be the brains if you're not around eh?" he slightly chuckled, taking her in his arms.

Seamus pulled Fleur to her feet, not noticing the scowl forming on the French witches features as she watched the other two's exchange. 

"I didn't see the driver when we pulled you out, no sign of that arse who tried to break my bleedin arm either."

They scanned the river bank, searching for the older Bulgarian as Ron helped Hermione to her feet. 

"Oye! The bridge mates, the feck is tryin to get away." Seamus shouted; running up the steep bank as the rest followed.

"Stop! By the order of the Ministry I order you to stop!" Hermione shouted as they reached the road, Kosta's limping form making its way towards the abandoned Range Rover. She aimed her wand only to have it snatched from her as Fleur stalked down the bridges pathway after him. 

"You mustn't be afraid to be a little bolder darling, zey never listen." She calmly cooed, flicking the wand in the direction of the SUV. The Range Rover quickly burst into flames, the explosion pushing the Bulgarian to his back, his body on to the concrete road. Ron and Seamus exchanged looks as Hermione gaped at the older witch. They stood there in shock, Fleur blowing the tip of Hermione's wand before handing it back to her. Ron's scoffed loudly, looking between the group and the fiery plume in the distance as he gestured towards Fleur wildly.

"That...what was that! And can someone please tell me what the bloody hell phlegm is doing here?"

 

* * *

 

Hermione let out a long breath, her story finally concluded as she sheepishly looked at Harry. The sound of his desk clock's ticking reverberated through office.

"Well you see then? We had nothing to do with that damage there mate. It was phle...Fleur." Ron corrected as Hermione shot him a glare. The dark haired wizard simply rocked gently back and forth in his chair, his eyes pensive as he tapped his finger against his lips in thought.

"...so... what you're telling me...is that Ron actually managed to properly drive a car?" Harry's slight smirk broke through his stern façade as Seamus and Hermione relaxed, letting out sighs of relief. Ron rolled his eyes, pulling a soggy batch of papers with the Range Rover emblem half rubbed off, from his pocket.

"I'll have you know I skimmed this thing whilst driving and got the gist of it quite quickly. Even though most of its bloody gibberish, how does one Range a rove anyway!"


	5. Cheers to the Weekend

The Rules of Engagement

Chapter 4: Cheers to the Weekend

* * *

 

 

To say the trio had dodged a bullet was an understatement. Hermione was grateful for having friends in high places, anyone else and they wouldn't have received such a light slap on the wrist. They would obviously have to dodge Lamont and the Minister for a few weeks, their excursion in Morocco was bound to become the hot topic around the office for the next few weeks but they were prepared for that. Being friends of 'The Boy who Lived' had given them their fair share of practice with all sorts of attention; positive or not.

"And where do you think you're going?" Harry cut in, glaring towards Ron as the three stood up.

"Um… the pub?" Ron smiled faintly as he looked back at Seamus and Hermione who both shrugged, looking at each other inquisitively.

"Oh no, you're staying here to help me with all this paperwork." Harry patted the large stack on his desk, removing two quills from his breast pocket.

"What! Can't we another night Harry? I'm about to go off my rocker if I don't get a pint." The red haired wizard complained.

Harry simply glared harder, motioning for him to sit.

"Ron…you stole a hundred thousand pound vehicle from a diplomatic motorcade. I don't care if it was necessity; you can't just run around stealing things without consequence. This is light compared what Thompson would do if he was still at this post."

Ron's lips pursed into a pout and his shoulders slumped in defeat as he shot the other two a regretful look.

"I guess I'll see you lot later."

"Oye, cheer up Ronny boy, it’s your turn after all. Remember to keep that quill straight and punctuate, punctuate, punctuate." Seamus mocked, giving his best McGonagall impression. Hermione gave Ron an apologetic frown before Seamus practically yanked her out of the office.

They briskly walked through the marble strewn lobby, flecks of black and silver swirling in patterns over the walls and floor around them. A majestic fountain sat in the middle lined with gold and smooth gray marble; displaying Harry's heroic defeat of Voldermort with the names of all who gave their lives during the war encircling the base in protruding gold script. Hermione found herself ignoring the pristine beauty of their setting as she glared at the back of the Irishman's head; his hand pulling her even harder towards the floo.

"Seamus! Easy now, it's going to come clean off if you pull any harder." She complained.

"Ya still want that drink yeah?" Seamus asked, letting her go and walking briskly towards the floo.

"Of course, even I have my limits. It's been a hellish week." Hermione replied, trying to keep up. The Irishman was obviously in dire need of a drink as he practically sprinted through the green flames. When she emerged she already found him making his way to the pub across the street, money in hand.

She entered the pub, smoke billowing around her as she found her way to the bar; two tall glasses filled with dark liquid already sitting in front of her partner.

"You don't waste any time do you?"

He shrugged indifferently as he dropped two shot glasses of baileys into the glasses.

"I wanted to get here before the rush, plus I got something to tell ya and I'm afraid ya'll be right cross with meh. Might as well get a few drinks in before ya hit meh."

"Seamus... how long have we known each other? I'm sure whatever you have to say isn't all...that...bad." Hermione watched in amazement as Seamus drank his two drinks in succession, slamming the last glass down and wiping the foam from his upper lip as he threw a set of coins down on the bar.

"Oye! Another round girly, keep em comin!" he shouted at the bartender before turning to her, his eyes pensive.

"This is a night of celebratory festivities is it not?" He drawled out innocently. Hermione nodded slowly, folding her arms over her chest as she eyed him carefully.

"Well it seemed only proper to celebrate with everyone that's contributed to our success...or whatever ya want to call it, in Morocco."

Her eyes widened with realization as she hit him hard on shoulder. "Seamus Finnigan you didn't?"

"Oui, it seems as z'ough 'e did."

Hermione instantly stiffened, turning slowly on the barstool to see Fleur; a smile slowly spreading across her flawless features as she took the seat next to the younger witch.

"Fleur...I didn't...it's not like that." Hermione stuttered out, nervously playing with the ends of her dress blouse as she stared down at her shoes.

"Monsieur Finnigan only z'ought it appropriate to invite moi, I did save your life, non?" Fleur's smile only grew wider as she watched Hermione cringe under her gaze.

"She's got a point 'Mione, if she hadn't stopped Kosta I'd be a little worse for wear right now." He smiled, holding his glass to the French woman before downing it in a few gulps.

"Of course, I'm sorry. I uh...it's been a long week. We usually do this with Ron; I'm just a creature of habit I suppose." She murmured; slipping her jacket off.

The French Auror's eyebrow raised as she crossed her legs, leaning her chin on her hand as her eyes searched the pub. "Oh... 'e will not be joining us?"

"No he's currently knee deep in paper work. After our little trip I doubt he'll have much free time for a while." She glared the older woman down as the bartender brought her their usual pitcher.

"Oh...zat is too bad. I was 'oping to buy 'im a drink to 'zank him for 'is daring rescue."

Seamus chuckled as he sheepishly eyed his drink; blowing the froth from the rim.

"We took that car from a French motorcade ya know that? Seems your Prime Minister was making diplomatic visit. It what right easy, they don't really guard those things very well."

Fleur scoffed, blowing a stray strand of hair away from her face as she pursed her lips.

"Good, 'e deserves some embarrassment. I 'ate zat man! I'm rarely involved in muggle politics but Mon Dieu, make a decision are you staying or going?"

Hermione shrugged, sipping gradually on her beer.

"I'm sure he had his reasons to resign, they must have given him pretty good incentive to come back."

"Yes, I'm sure 'zee sum was quite large. What man could resist 'zee lure of more money and power?"

The younger witch's eyebrow rose as she eyed Fleur inquisitively. She had never seen the older woman so worked up before; it was a pleasant change from her usual stoic demeanor.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa ladies, I came here to drink; not squabble on about muggles and their rubbish ideals and politics. No offense 'Mione."

"None taken, I don't really pay much attention anymore anyway." She sighed indifferently as she offered Fleur one of her glasses.

"Oh no 'zee taste of beer; it's not one of my favorites. I usually stick to wine."

"That is only because ya haven't had proper one yet. Hermione and Ron like that light Pilsner, which I find ghastly." Seamus smiled, wafting the glass of dark liquid towards his nose as he gave a satisfied sigh.

"Guinness is a right good one. She sloshes ya properly hard and when ya wake up she'll be right there with ya to carry ya out through the day. Ya know how many times I've still been knocked off meh feet on the job?"

Hermione turned then, glaring the Irishman down as he cleared his throat; giving her an innocent smirk.

"Of course I always make sure I'm at top game 'Mione, I can assure ya. But you my French beauty look like ya have a bit of a sweet tooth so I'd say some Guinness with a shot of Bailys. It's called an Irish car bomb and it is, in every sense of the words." He called the bartender over ordering three more glasses.

"I'm sorry; he becomes a very bad influence when he drinks." Hermione sighed; shaking her head disapprovingly as she lightly pushed the Irishman on his shoulder.

"Oh come on, it's the weekend. I do not intend to spend my time away from that bloody office sober. I'm not leaving till this stuff is bleeding out meh eyes."

"Non, its okay; I 'zink I would very much like to try 'zis 'car bomb'. You two 'ave not seen me at best yet." The French Auror quipped as she pulled the glasses towards her.

"Ohhhh you hear that 'Mione? We're being challenged."

Hermione laughed as she gave Fleur a warning glance. "We've been known to get pretty wild, I'm not sure you'll be able to keep up."

Fleur's lips curled upwards, her eyes roaming over the younger witch in disbelief.

"You? Wild? Now 'zis I 'ave to see, I accept your challenge."

Seamus gave a satisfied smirk as the trio held the shot glasses over the Guinness.

"All right then you fair maidens, let's commence. Start the count at round one...GO!"

The trio consumed round after round, from the Irish bomb to the sake bomb, Fleur keeping up all the while. It wasn't until they hit their seventh that when Hermione's head started spin, her hands gripped the bar tightly as she tried to steady herself; Seamus and Fleur's laughter echoing in the background.

"All I'm saying is: if she smells like a dog, looks like a dog and tastes like a dog; then I might as well be fecking a dog!" Seamus cackled as Fleur snickered, her hand covering her mouth as she blushed slightly.

"Hey watch your mouth; you're in the presence of ladies you know?" Hermione somewhat slurred as she leaned against her hand, the spinning in her head slightly subsiding.

"Oh come on 'Mione, ya know it's true. Ya all right there? Don't tell meh you're out, we've only just started."

Hermione scoffed as she straightened her back, gulping down the last of her drink.

"Of course not! I'm merely on my second wind, but I think Fleur might be fading fast..." She smiled at French witch's shocked expression.

"I'm not even at zee precipice of being finished Granger, but I am in need of a little break." She took a long silver case from her purse and moved off the barstool.

"I will return momentarily to finish my victory. Excuez-moi."

She gave the pair a wink as she exited the bar; Seamus' eyes following her retreating form as he whistled under his breath. "Ya have to admit she's awfully nice on the eyes. That dress… my god blue really is her color."

Hermione narrowed her eyes on the Irish wizard, her expression showing disapproval. "Are you actually giving her a once over?"

Seamus shrugged, drinking the rest of his glass as he raised his eyebrow towards the brunette. "What if I am? She's a very pleasant woman and I'm a very virile man. So what if I am?"

Hermione scoffed, her eyes darting from the door and back to him in disbelief. "What about Susan?"

"Susan Bones and I are not exclusive may I remind ya. She can shack up with whoever she wants and the same goes for meh, she's made that plenty clear." He replied gruffly, smoothing his sandy locks as he averted his eyes; the subject was obviously not one of his favorites.

"She's been through a lot you know? With both wars and all-"

Seamus growled fiercely, waving his hands in the air as he shook his head.

"Come off it Hermione, I don't wanna go there. Let's just leave it all right? We're celebrating tonight and I'm in the company of two beautiful women, that's all I want to think about right now."

She nodded quietly as she watched him finish another glass and start on the next one. The war had been difficult for them all. With Ron, Harry and her out hunting Horocrux's Seamus had been left at Hogwarts enduring countless torture sessions with the Carrows; she always suspected the young wizard had never fully recovered.

"Ya know she's been gone a little while, maybe ya should go check on her." He sighed, sloshing the contents of his glass as he stared down into it.

Hermione nodded as she slid off the bar stool, her hand finding his and giving a gentle squeeze. He gazed at her hand a while before intertwining his fingers with hers and squeezing back; a silent apology between the two before she made her way out of the bar. The night air hit her viciously and she instantly regretted not bringing her coat as her arms wrapped around her chest, chocolate brown eyes searching the streets for any sign of the French witch. A plume of smoke from the alley way caught her attention and she followed it cautiously as she gripped her wand in her pocket. Relief overtook her when she spotted Fleur leaning against one of the brick buildings a cigarette between her nimble fingers.

"I didn't take you for a smoker." She smiled faintly as she caught the slight panic in Fleur's eyes, indecision marring her features as if trying to decide whether or not to discard the cigarette. Her pride won as she straightened; watching as the younger witch made her way towards her.

"It 'iz a 'abit I try not to practice but I couldn't resist; 'zee tobacco in Morocco is quite good." She brought the cigarette to her lips, breathing in the cancerous fumes and exhaling them expertly as Hermione leaned against the wall next to her.

"We all have our ways to unwind. I won't judge you...too harshly." She joked. Fleur's laugh rang through the alley way, her tongue darting out to lick her bottom lip as she ran her fingers through her silver-blonde hair.

"Waz my presence missed enough for you to come looking?"

Hermione scoffed, shaking her head as she looked anywhere but the blue eyes staring her down, a humorous glint encasing them.

"Seamus was the one to say something; I was perfectly fine leaving you out here to freeze."

Fleur's smile only grew wider as she flicked the cigarette expertly, eyeing the younger witch up and down. She hummed indifferently; leaning on her side as she tucked a stray hair from the younger witch's cheek, her fingers grazing the trail. Hermione felt her face flush as she looked into orbs of blue that were slowly turning a dark sapphire, something unspoken and hopeful reflecting through them.

"Somehow...I don't quite believe 'zat."

Hermione's lips parted slightly, her response catching in her throat.

"There ya are! It's freezing out here, you ladies should be covered."

The two pulled apart hastily as Seamus' form emerged through the darkness, handing the two their coats as he shivered, his breath coming out in large puffs of fog.

"It's right stuffy in there! I couldn't take it. I thought you two might want to accompany meh home, I'm in no condition to apparate so I'm being responsible." He beamed proudly at Hermione. The two often had many arguments about his recklessness in aparating after their drunken exploits.

"I'm proud and of course. A handsome man like you shouldn't be roaming the streets this late at night. Who knows what Wiley women could be lurking around?" Hermione joked while linking her arm in his; welcoming the relief of his timely arrival. He chuckled linking his other free arm in Fleur's and pulling her alongside him, a soft yelp escaping the French woman's lips before falling into cadence with the shorter wizard.

"One can only hope 'Mione, Merlin knows I'd appreciate it right now."

"Ave you no one special to go home to Monsieur Finnigan?" Fleur queried. She felt the man's arm slightly tighten and release, his jaw flexing uncomfortably. Hermione instantly stiffened as well, her feet stopping and then quickly picking back up again as she eyed the Irishman warily; waiting for the impending argument. He gave an exasperated breath before smiling endearingly at the French Auror, his shoulders slightly shrugging.

"I do, but we're not exclusive ya see. Being in my line of work; it presents some challenges. She'd rather not get involved with meh if she's not entirely sure I'll actually come home alive."

Fleur nodded somberly and gave his arm a gentle, comforting squeeze. He flinched only slightly before his smile grew wider, his arm squeezing back.

"Even 'zough I can see 'er point; I must agree.'Zis is our job, if we didn't 'oo else would?"

"That's what I've been trying to say. I do love her ya know? I look at her and I want to give her everything she's never had. Only two women in my life get to have me like that and that's the drink and Susan bloody bones; but she won't just let it be. I love meh job... I don't know who I'd be without it, so I can't win ya see? I'd lose either way."

They approached a dark grey apartment building; vines scaling up the edges and encircling the windows, the light to his flat illuminating through the night.

"Speaking of the devil..." Seamus murmured; his blue eyes lingering on the window before returning to them. His features instantly became concerned as he looked between the two. "You lot gonna be all right?"

The two women looked at each other and then nodded. Hermione uncomfortably shifted her weight from one foot to the other as Fleur's cheeks slightly reddened, her hands sliding into the wool pockets of her pea coat.

"Oui, my 'otel is not far from 'ere."

The younger witch bit her bottom lip as Seamus' eyes darted back and forth between them; inconspicuously nodding towards Fleur. But Hermione's eyes narrowed as she shook head slightly only to receive a sterner glare from the Irishman.

"Well, I... I could walk you...if you'd like."

The blonde witch smiled, fully sensing the hesitation in Hermione's tone but not willing to let the opportunity go to waste; she nodded towards the direction of her hotel.

"Zat would be lovely."

"All right then, it's settled." Seamus beamed as he made his way up the buildings stoop.

"I'll see ya when I see ya ladies. Have a pleasant night my French rose."

"You too Monsieur Finnigan." Fleur chuckled as Hermione waved goodbye. They made their way towards bright city lights silence overtaking them both. It was a little while before either of them spoke, the night air cold and thick with unfamiliar anxiety.

"E is a lovely man; an excellent replacement for 'Arry." Fleur murmured; not trusting her own voice as she tried to break the awkward silence. Hermione nodded as she licked her chapped lips, her eyes casting upwards towards the stars before finding light blue eyes shyly gazing at her.

"Um...yeah; though he's a little a wild for my tastes sometimes. Harry and I were always the voices of reason. When he and Ronald get together it's um...well I guess you've seen what can happen."

They both chuckled as they passed over a bridge leading further into the city. The buildings strewn with specs of light as the smell of fresh snow and smog filled their senses.

"You head back to France tomorrow?" Hermione asked, breaking another long stint of silence.

"Non, I am in town for 'zee weekend. I visit William tomorrow and 'zen zee banquet is on Sunday so…" She trailed off then, her shoulders shrugging lightly as they walked.

"Oh…right. Bill invited you?" Hermione asked innocently, highly aware of the fact it had to have been the second oldest Weasley. It was common knowledge that the other members of his family did not hold Fleur in high regard, Ron being the only one who seemed to tolerate her presence; though Hermione suspected it had more to do with the French woman's long appealing legs and gorgeous figure than her actual person. She mentally slapped herself; pushing the thoughts down into her subconscious.

Where did that come from? She thought, settling it must be the alcohol before Fleur answered.

"Oui, 'oo else?" Her tone was light as she smiled softly. She knew full and well the situation with the Weasley's was not on good standing. Molly had barely liked her to begin with when she and Bill had been married, but now after the divorce…she didn't want to think what would happen if she was left alone with the foreboding woman.

"Well…I think you deserve to go either way, we all fought together. You risked your life just as much as any of us so why should you be treated any different?" Hermione offered nonchalantly as her eyes looked anywhere but the witch next to her. She was startled slightly when she felt Fleur's arm loop between hers, a gratified smile on her lips.

"Z'ank you, I don't get to 'ear 'zat much. It's nice to know 'zat someone notices."

The younger witch smiled faintly before returning her gaze forward, a blush creeping from her neck to her cheeks as she tried to change the subject.

"They might make it a yearly event you know? Arthur…Mr. Weasley that is, says it's the first time we're all able to come together since the war. The Ministry is all abuzz with the whole thing."

"Zat's what William 'as been saying, I'm looking forward to it. It's been so long since I 'ave seen 'arry too. I hear Victor will be coming as well…" she trailed off, eyeing the younger witch inquisitively. Hermione cringed slightly, the last time she had seen the Bulgarian seeker things were left awkwardly. Her primary reason for visiting him had been to merely get information on popular Quiddich team hang out's that Stoyan might have frequented. He had told her he felt used and that she barely owled him anymore unless she was after something. Hermione strongly denied this of course but refrained from mentioning her strong desire not to lead him on was the main reason she had lost contact. There just wasn't anything there anymore; apparently she was the only one who could see that.

"Yes...well... I'm sure there will be a lot of familiar faces there."

Silence fell again before they reached the front of Fleur's hotel, red letters lined with bright yellow bulbs that read l'Hôtel Adélaїde. Hermione's eyebrow raised as she smirked at the French witch.

"Staying close to home I see?"

Fleur chuckled lightly as she shrugged. She smiled faintly as she watched a couple walk by hand in hand. "Zee comforts of 'ome are some'zing I cannot do without I'm afraid."

Another moment of awkward silence passed between them as Hermione chewed on her bottom lip, her fingers twisting loose threads in her pockets.

"Well...goodnight I guess..." She said, beginning to turn before long fingers wrapped around her arm and pulled her close. Her breath caught as soft lips ghosted over her cheek and placed a soft kiss there.

"Bonsoir, mon amour." Whispered Fleur; turning and entering the hotel before the stunned witch had time to respond.


	6. Dust

The Rules Of Engagement

Chapter 5: Dust

* * *

 

 

Dust: tiny particles of matter that join together and are carried by various means dwellings or other spaces, seemingly rather harmless when one thinks about it; except in this instance one of these minute specks had found its way in the corner of Hermione's eye. She huffed in annoyance as she rubbed a dampened cloth across the edge of her eyelashes, mindful of her makeup and dutifully ignoring the exasperated sighs of the young Auror next to her.

"I don't understand why  _I_  have to be in here with  _you_  while  _you_  get an eyelash out of  _your_  eye. This is technically the _ladies_  lavatory." Ron whispered as his eyes darted back and forth, his hands again adjusting the cummerbund around his waist.

Hermione rolled her eyes and thanked Merlin for Ron's impatience as she was finally able to get the offending speck as a result.

"Ronald, I told you that you were to spend the time in here to adjust your suit properly instead of grabbing at yourself in front of affluent company. Aside from that, you know full and well the men's lavatory is still under maintenance after what you Seamus did to it." She disposed of the cloth in her clutch as she turned to him; his face red with embarrassment.

"That's not fair; George needed to test that flurry bomb in real world environments. It's a business thing; high profile companies do it all the time!" He argued as he shoved his hands lewdly into his pants, pushing his dress shirt down into his trousers as it yet again had forced its way out of his tuxedo bottoms.

Hermione's glare turned chagrined as she watched the red-headed wizard make a mess of his finely pressed shirt.

"Usually those 'high profile' companies have sites to test their products on and they also do not mainly cater to children. You two blew a lavatory up with an unsafe, pre-pubescent toy Ronald; let's not try to dress it up." She chided as she came to stand in front of him, flattening the lines he had created on his shirt.

"How dust could get in here is beyond me, the Ministry is constantly magically cleaning this building and the wards alone are boasted to not even let air that is too thick in… its actually quite curious…."

She trailed off, her features contorting in confusion. Ron on his part simply huffed as he grabbed her hand and led her out of the over decorated lavatory and into the Ministries main hall.

"Really 'Mione, we're going to become suspicious of dust now? If it really bothers you then on Monday we can launch a full investigation, but right now all I want to do is catch up with old friends and drink my arse off with expensive spirits."

They walked briskly down the marble laid hallway to the ballroom's main entrance, Ron tugging on his tuxedo jacket one last time before extending his arm to her.

"Please for the love of Merlin do not let yourself and Seamus get sloshed. This isn't Hogsmeade with Rosmerta, its distinguished guests and politicians." Hermione whined as she took his arm and a deep breath, preparing herself.

"Oh don't worry 'Mione, you know us! We're high functioning drunkards; no one will be able to tell the difference." He ignored her scandalized glare as he pushed the double doors open and pulled her through.

The smell of lavender and vanilla invaded her nostrils as they made their way through the extravagant space, her eyes immediately taking in raven-black marble laced with gold swirls. The Ministry and spared no expense on the rebuild and it was becoming glaringly more obvious that this event was meant to be  ** _the_** event of the new ballrooms unveiling.

She was taken from her thoughts as Ron's low whistle rang through her ears.

"Wow, they really went all out on this eh? I guess when wars are over the expense to show how much you're not broken is pretty high." He whispered as they made their way through a sea of finely tailored suits and dress gowns. Unfamiliar hands shook her and Ron's as praises of all different kinds and languages were cast upon them. She felt herself becoming overwhelmed, almost suffocated by it, her grip on the red headed Aurors arm unconsciously tightened as her breathing quickened. She had almost had enough until she saw Harry; his head slightly tilting back in laughter as he conversed with the head of the Ministries Magical Creatures department.

His figure was dominating when he caught her eye, the crowd parted around him almost as if sensing his demand for space. He unclasped his hands and gave her an assuring nod as they made their way towards him.

"All right there 'Mione?" He whispered as he gave her shoulder a firm squeeze.

She let out a deep breath and smiled as his touch instantly soothed her. If anyone should be uncomfortable in this setting it should have been him, but it seemed to bend to his will rather than overtake him. She felt her heart swell with pride at the notion.

"I will be, just not used to all of this… it's been a while. So long have I avoided things like this I feel like it's the Yule Ball all over again."

Ron's crude snort caught her attention as he smirked at her.

"I remember you held up quite well with all that 'Mione. You know it's funny, I would have died for one of these tuxes during that time but now all I want to do it take the bloody thing off." He said, slyly changing the subject as he pulled at the tux dramatically.

Harry's chuckle was heavy and genuine.

"Well let's hope it's not right now because I don't think these stuffed shirts could handle seeing your pale arse in this sort of ambiance."

They playfully shoved one another as Hermione looked on in slight fondness, they really were her rock.

"Yes, Yes Ron is quite pale. Now please be on your best behavior I… wait…where is Seamus?" She questioned, the trio looking about for the Irish rouge.

"Hm, it is awfully quiet and I haven't seen him since he excused himself for refreshments half an hour ago." Harry pondered as Hermione's expression turned panicked.

"Oh Merlin…You must go look for him!" She pushed at the two men, pointing them in opposite directions towards the two bars at the ends of the ballroom.

"All right, all right don't get in a tuff, we'll start the search. Will you be alright?" Ron queried as he looked down at her with slight concern.

"I'll be fine, just a bit of nerves, but they've passed. I won't be fine though if he's gone off on his own and gotten properly sloshed, who knows what he'll do then."

Ron and Harry exchanged glances of amusement before being pushed again and finally relenting.

"Okay, Okay… just come look for us if you need us alright?" Harry said giving a pointed look before he and Ron walked off in opposite directions.

The bright witch sighed as she stood about, clenching and unclenching her grip around her small purse as she looked for something to occupy her time. She was just about to give up and help in the search when she caught sight of the most breath taking vision.

Fleur Delacour had always been beautiful, stunning even, Hermione could always begrudgingly admit that; but now… now she seemed almost unworldly. The French Auror was adorned in a stunning pale gray gown that trailed the floor slightly; the material hugging above her midsection before flowing out from underneath and the two-inch band of silver that hugged her waist was crafted into tiny branches that interwove with one another. Hermione stared mouth agape as the woman, who being chatted to by two men on either side of her, caught her gaze. That smirk that Hermione had seen so many times that week crept on to the woman's lips as she gracefully gestured with her hand towards her own chin.

Her cheeks reddened instantly as she turned around, embarrassed of being caught leering in such an unkempt manner. She was silently chiding herself whilst trying to push some emotion that was foreign to her down when she felt a light, silky touch graze her shoulder. She turned suddenly to see Fleur gazing down upon her with one eyebrow raised and a glass of champagne twirling back and forth in her hand.

"Mademoiselle Granger, what company to see in such a dull setting. I'm glad I was able to spot you, 'zose gentlemen would not leave me alone." Hermione watched as Fleur finished her champagne; her smirk turning into a thankful smile.

"Nothing I'm sure you're not used to." Hermione briskly replied, slightly shocking herself at her impatient tone. The blonde's eyebrow merely arched higher as she discarded her glass onto a waiter's tray as he walked by.

"Oui, I suppoze so… Where is ze rest of your clan? I'm surprized to not see you joined at ze hip."

Hermione sighed as she tried to calm herself; the French Auror was obviously brushing away her comment so she might as well make peace.

"Trying to find Seamus, he can get a little…out of hand at these sorts of things. I think he takes it almost as a challenge on how many feathers he can ruffle before getting kicked out."

They softly laughed together, Fleur nodding in silent agreement.

"He'z a little devil but I've grown quite fond of him actually…Hiz company was refreshing." Fleur murmured as if recalling the night before.

"Ah well, he is very fond of you. I'm sure if you saw you now he would have a conniption…" Hermione gestured limply towards Fleurs dress as if not taking particular notice, though the smile on the French woman's face already told her that her attempt at feigning disinterest was a failure.

"I'm sure I wouldn't ‘old his interest long… red iz a fetching color on you. I've meant to tell you since William and I'z wedding." Fleur for her part did not seem to feign anything; her eyes ran up Hermione's form almost lewdly as she gracefully took another glass of champagne from a passing by waiter, her eyes never leaving the younger witch's form.

Hermione felt her pulse quicken as the unknown feeling from before returned tenfold, she was about to stutter out what was most likely a shaky rebuttal when one of the gentlemen Fleur had been talking to came up behind the blonde.

"Miss Delacour, I am not surprised that a woman of your beauty keeps such lovely company as well."

He was tall and built rather well, his face clean shaven save a slight mustache adorning his upper lip. His auburn hair looked stylishly unkempt as he smoothed the front of his servicemen jacket.

Hermione watched curiously as Fleurs eyes fluttered closed in slight annoyance before turning to the gentleman with a dazzling smile.

"Monsieur Ovid, I 'av only just left you, yet you return to ask for a dance so soon?" Her tone was curt, a high pitched ring echoing from her glass as she tapped her nails against its surface.

The gentleman merely chuckled and shook his head; his eyes glancing towards the younger witch as his lips pursed slightly.

"Actually my dear a gentleman knows when his company is not wanted; I was going to extend the invitation to your lovely confidant… if she will have me." His hand reached out towards her, his dark brown eyes gazing into hers, beseeching. She faintly registered Fleurs huff as she took the man's invitation, silently thanking the gods above for giving her an escape from another awkward exchange with the French Auror.

She noted how soft his hands were for a gentleman of service, surprising for someone whose job detailed handling a wand just as much as hers did. The job description was almost no different than hers, except for the fact that she was allowed to come and go as she pleased; Servicemen and women were required to be on the Ministries call at all times. Judging from the decoration of his uniform, pale blue with slight gold inlay and onyx accents; his post was most likely Greece.

He gently spun her as they reached the dance floor, his posture already poised for the waltz before her turn completed. Drawing her close, his hand's gripping her waist firmly; he began to lead them in time with the band as they played a familiar tune for their stance.

"You are quite capable on your feet, Hermione…may I call you that?" His breath smelled of fresh mint, something that struck her with a familiar feeling she couldn't quite place. They parted briefly as he extended her outwards; his arm perfectly poised as his other hand held daintily onto her finger tips while they circled each other.

"You may Mr. Ovid" She began before he pulled her close again; his arm moving hers outwards whilst his left drew the other one in close to his waist. He led her effortlessly, eyes never leaving hers as they moved in time with others on the dance floor.

"Please, address me as Lycus. Miss Delacour never properly introduced you and I, though I feel you already know that I am well aware of whom you are. None the less, I prefer to be on a first name basis with my dance partners."

They revolved again and she caught Fleurs fierce gaze, following them as they moved to-and-fro. Her eyes almost seemed black before she broke from Hermione's stare and briskly disappeared behind a large pocket of tuxedos and gowns. The smell of fresh mint enveloped her again as she turned her head slightly to see Lycus looking down at her, his gaze was piercing as his lips formed into an unsettling smirk.

"You really shouldn't let her bother you; her saying no only made my choice that much…easier." There was a slight break in his tone… his voice gruffer at the end, sounding more like gravel than silk like before.

"And what choice are you referring to Mr…I mean, Lycus?" Her eyes peered into his, watching the slight shift from brown to hazel and then back again. His grip became tighter as he pulled her closer, and that familiar scent assaulted her again as his forehead touched hers.

"On which one of you I'll let try to chase me."

She pulled back slightly, eyes glaring curiously as he gave her a wolfish smile.

"I'm sorry; I've offended you with my un-gentleman like behavior, I may be touched by the wine."

He gave her hand an apologetic squeeze before spinning her gently, his demeanor turning proper and over embellished.

"From which post did you say you were stationed?" Hermione questioned as she gazed at him suspiciously. His chuckle was deep as they came together one last time, the song ending flourishingly.

"I did not say, but since you inquire I'm sure you've already deduced that it is Greece, Tripoli region to be more exact." He bowed, his eyes holding hers before he straightened.

"Thank you for the dance Miss Granger; you are a revelation in both hearsay and in person."

He gave a subtle nod towards her before retreating into the crowd of other dancers, his pale blue jacket slowly fading behind a sea of black tuxes. The young Auror let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding as she turned and made her way out of the ballroom doors, sighing with relief when the doors to the crowded ballroom closed behind her and she was left with fresh air in the empty hallway.

Her fingers ran through her magically tamed curls as she closed her eyes, taking in the silence. Ovid's words stuck with her, he was rather forward and the tone had taken with her was slightly…predatory. Hermione could admit the attention was flattering but being courted was the last thing on her agenda, her job made sure she had no room for a love life of any sort and she had come to accept that a long time ago. She was brought out of her thoughts when a loud bang rang out from down the hall, her hand immediately moving to the impression of her wand that was strapped to her leg underneath her dress.

Another rumble echoed again as she pulled the wand from her garter and slowly progressed down the hallway, silently toing off her heels. She found herself in front of the janitor’s closet door, and the tip of her wand to the keyhole to silently unlock it. Bracing herself, she wrapped her hand around the shaking door knob and pulled swiftly, wand at the ready as it lit the dark space with a glow of white light.

"Oh, Merlin…have I died?"

The young Auror let out a relieved sigh as she gazed down at Seamus' disheveled form.

"Don't tell me you somehow got so drunk you managed to lock yourself in a closet." Hermione half chuckled as she helped the Irishman up, his body instantly leaning against hers as he groaned.

"I swear I only had one drink and then…I don't know I just woke up here. Believe me; I envisioned my ending to tonight being a lot more…dramatic."

He fussed as she tried to smooth down his hair and straighten his bow tie.

"Well Harry and Ron have been in search of you all night, I only came out to get some air and well…there you were." She gave him a gentle shove towards the ballroom as she closed the closet door, making her way behind but stopped when a shimmer caught her eye. Her eyes strained as she slowly inched further towards the slight glimmer that flickered against one of the marble walls. She could feel intense heat and cold almost at the same time as her hand unconsciously extended towards the sparkling, medium sized hole.

She briefly registered Seamus' curious stare directed at her as her mind tried to process the magically torn hole facing her. Countless hours spent warding and testing the barriers around the ministry burned up in front of her eyes as she ran her finger along the edge of the misshapen circle, the instant cold of it slightly shocking her.

"Blimey, is that a tear?"

She turned to him then her face still contorted in confusion as she stared down at her fingers, the tips rubbing the soot between them.

"It's… I don't…understand how…"She struggled; still in awe as she finally met his worried gaze, her throat swallowing hard as she looked back down at her fingertips. A cold breeze blew through the gaping tear, particles of the slowly chipped away barrier settling across her rosy cheeks. At that moment, only one word echoed through her mind.

Dust

 


	7. Rituals

The Rules of Engagement 

Chapter 7: Rituals

* * *

 

The deafening sound of hard redwood doors shutting behind them jolted Hermione, her fingers gripping the expensive leather arm rest of her chair as her eyes followed Lamont's form moving to and fro around his office; wand flourishing as he set a silencing spell around them. She briefly registered Ron and Seamus' forms next to her, again obviously familiar with this setting as the head of Judges finally sat in front of them, his hands nervously busying themselves with adjusting the tiny Knick knacks adorning his expensive oak desk.

Hermione was shocked to say the least when they were summoned directly to Lamont's office after pulling him away from the gala to show him evidence of a possible intrusion. The judges eyes showed unrelenting alarm before he hurriedly rushed them away, snapping his fingers at two local servicemen to stay guard at the tear.

"Desperate times call for desperate measures…" He muttered bringing Hermione out of her reverie.

"Pardon Magistrate?" She kept her tone respectful though she still had no idea why they were being so quiet about the situation, the first steps of evacuating and screenings should have happened minutes ago.

"I know what you must be thinking Granger but please forgo normal procedures for this, I cannot allow anyone else but a select few to know what has transpired." He responded, his hands shakily grasping a decanter of dark liquid as he pulled an ornate crystal tumbler from under his desk.

Ron sighed as he levitated one of the trinkets from Lamont's desk in his hand; something either dangerous or priceless, possibly both given the Magistrate's sudden posture change and panicked expression. The red headed wizard had gotten rather good at wandless magic unbeknownst to anyone else but her, Seamus and Harry so she could understand Lamont's apprehension.

"What does that even mean? Desperate times? I just don't understand why we're here when we all know you're still puffed up over Morocco."

The Judge merely downed the contents of his glass, a slight grimace marring his features before using his wand to take the trinket out of Ron's grasp, gently setting it down on the shelf behind him.

"You are absolutely correct in that assumption Mr. Weasley; but I've come to the conclusion that our operations cannot just stop over a little tear. I will not be a destroyer of hope and comfort; people are just starting to get back to normal. The past few years have been good and I will not have it ruined over something that can be contained in house. Seeing as you lot have been neglecting your post in the lower levels anyway I can only infer that you are free to put all of your efforts into investigating this matter."

Hermione's posture straightened then, they were being put on assignment; an undisclosed assignment at that. "You are briefing us for field work?" She queried, trying not to sound surprised.

Lamont sighed pouring another glass of dark liquor and downing it before nodding slowly. "I am…I must be bloody mad but I am…" he sighed, running his fingers through his well kempt hair.

Suddenly the doors to the office sprung open to reveal a calm, albeit forcefully, Harry Potter and the two servicemen that Lamont had left behind.

"Potter, I left strict instructions for you to leave them posted until I could figure out what to do with the guests-" Lamont seethed as he abruptly stood from his desk.

"I know Magistrate, but the tear…it's…well its gone sir." Harry breathed as he briefly averted his gaze to the trio and then back to the judge.

Lamont quickly pushed himself away from the desk and snapped his fingers at the Trio, signaling them to shadow as he followed Harry out and into the hall. Hermione was the first to respond, trying to keep pace in her heels as Ronald and Seamus followed lackadaisically behind. Their pace slowed as they passed the ballroom and then rapidly quickened when the broom closet Seamus was found came into view.

"I don't understand…it was just here…" Lamont muttered to himself as he circled the area, moving his wand back and forth.

One of the servicemen nodded in agreement before moving forward, his hands tucked dutifully behind him.

"Yes, Sir Magistrate…I can assure you we were standing by upon your request but…it just…vanished."

"It sealed itself."

The men turned to Hermione their gaze shocked as she cleared her throat, uncomfortable with the sudden attention.

"What did you say Miss Granger? It sealed itself?" Lamont moved into her space his hands desperately gripping her shoulders.

"Why? How can you come to this deduction? Explain."

Hermione grimaced slightly, looking at the hands on her shoulders then back to Lamont who seemed to have caught himself and had quickly let go of her person.

"I know it seems farfetched but how long have the wards been in place at the ministry and they've never been broken? I don't think this tear showing up on this particular night was any sort of accident or fluke. It was purposely done, not to break in or break out but to just simply make a point. Whomever did this wanted us to find it, how else can Seamus' random disappearance be explained, to find him unconscious in a closet that only locks from the outside?"

Lamont merely scoffed. "Mr. Finnegan has had quite the reputation at these sort of gatherings, finding him in the state that you did was not the most surprising event of the night."

The Irish Auror seethed as he stepped forward only be stopped by Harry's hand on his chest, a pleading glance from his former school mate being the only thing to dampen his famous temper.

"I can guarantee yeh I hadn't even begun my 'state' when I was knocked out and put in there, someone must have thought I was in the way. I was out here trying to look for a place to smoke when the next thing I know I was in that closet."

He spat, ignoring Lamont's scandalized glare.

"He speaks the truth, he has a very high tolerance for spirits I can attest to that." Ron responded with a slight tone of nostalgia.

The head judge's posture became poised as he straightened his tuxedo jacket and smoothed his hair.

"Then we must treat this with the upmost care, someone was obviously trying to make a point and it has been received. Thankfully now I will not have to come up with an excuse for the guests so the gala will continue as scheduled. The night however is just beginning for you lot, I'm appointing you to this case and I cannot stress enough how highly under wraps this must remain. I want no one else, unless they are approved by me, knowing of what transpired here. I have given Potter a full list of contacts and clearance for whatever provisions you may need, please keep me informed daily of the proceedings."

With that he was off to the ballroom, a showman's smile plastered on his lips before entering.

"Are we really going to need to be here the whole night?" Ron questioned with exasperation.

"Whatever it takes Ron, I assume you can handle this?" Harry questioned, his gaze falling to the young witch as he placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"Consider it already halfway taken care of." She assured as he squeezed her shoulder and made his way back to the gala.

She gestured the two servicemen off before turning to her partners, a devilish smile already spreading across their lips.

"You already know where to look don't you." Seamus said, his tone full of knowing accusation.

"Yes, so no Ron we will not be here the whole night. Obviously this was done by someone with skill but careful enough to not leave a trace. While Lamont was blathering on I took the time to gather some possibilities." Hermione replied diligently as she transfigured her gown into her civilian clothes.

The boys did the same as they made their way to the main entrance hall of the ministry.

"So you're thinking a burner wand as well?" The red headed Auror commented.

"That's exactly right, and I know exactly where the market for that is. Come on boy's… nights just begun." She extended her arm out and adjusted her jacket with the other as Seamus grabbed hold of her hand and Ronald followed suit.

"Oh I love when she goes all Sherlock on us." Seamus said as the Trio disappeared with a faint pop.

 

* * *

 

 

Pupils swimming in pools of deep chocolate dilated as streams of brightly colored neon lights swayed back and forth across Hermione's features, highlights of blue and gold shimmering down creamy skin as her eyes fell closed and she took in the muffled noise from the city streets below; even now over a hundred stories up Shanghai's populace could still be heard.

She let out a long deep breath as she slowly brought her sight back, the slow strobe of dark and then bright light almost relaxing her as she tried to prepare herself mentally for the mission at hand. They all had their own way of getting themselves ready; Ron was pacing a little ways away, his fingers rubbing a small token coin from his brothers joke shop, gaze occasionally glancing out of one of the many windows that surrounded them. Seamus was hunched over their port key, his eyes closed as he moved his wand back and forth in practiced motions, his mouth muttering protection spells around them with expert ease.

They've done this so many times that now it just seemed be almost out of habit. She had to remind herself they were only here to visit a black market wand shop that they had traced the burner wand to. Most likely a simple query would be made, they'd grab dinner and then make their way back to this building to port key home. The port key was Seamus' idea; in case they ran into trouble they could have a quick exit. Apparition required a clear mind and calm body and there was always risk of splinching if it was rushed but there really was no reason for their Stoyan ritual on a mission like this, guess old habits die hard.

Her eyes fell back to the red headed wizard who was still pacing back and forth, no longer was the gangly boy from their school days; Ron had filled out into a grown man. She took note how his fitted slacks and dress shirt clung to him nicely, his decision to forgo a tie as to appear casual only lending to the overall appeal of his slightly disheveled cropped hair; the Hermione from two years ago would have swooned. They had tried dating after the war but found there was a spark missing, it was Ron who had actually brought the relationship to an end first; something that she had been fearing to do herself after a few months into it. It was awkward of course, any relationship that had to revert back to friendship was but he was gentle, kind and understanding all the way through. Now they were better friends than ever, he was her person and always would be even if it wasn't romantically.

Her reverie was broken when Seamus sprung to his feet from the corner of her eye. He straightened his hoodie as he made his way towards her, a mischievous smile playing across his lips.

"You ready or have we lost you to your thoughts again?" His tone held no accusations or doubts of her ability, just a simple question.

She smiled and nodded, letting him adjust the buckles on her leather jacket before she helped him brush the concrete dust from his jeans.

"I'm ready just…feels weird to not be analyzing all the angles and making lists of defensive spells in my head before a mission. It's almost unsettling…" She trailed off as he moved her wand from the pocket of her skinny jeans to the inside of pocket of her jacket.

"You're just on your toes that's all, I don't think I want to get used to not having to prepare…makes me feel lazy." The Irishman chuckled as he gave her a roguish wink before turning and snapping his fingers at the pacing wizard in front of her.

"Oi! Ronny, I'm due back at Susan's for tea in few hours and I promised I wouldn't be late this time, so let's get a move on."

The elevator ride down was a long one. The trio stood in silence as they descended, the skyline of Shanghai slowly being over shadowed floor by floor. When they finally reached the ground floor Seamus pulled a rumpled cocktail napkin from his pocket; it was covered in tiny scribbling's and crude drawings but as map it would suffice.

The Irish Auror waved his wand over the napkin, muttering softly as Hermione waited for the spells intent to take place. The make-shift map illuminated briefly as tiny dots and lines started moving to and fro; Hermione always loved when Seamus did this, sure it may have been crude version of the Marauders map but the skill and technique it took was always appreciated by the bright witch. Little x's popped in and out of place before the spell finally seemed to settle, a red circle moving its way to the center of the napkin.

"Aye! There it is, there's plenty of black market wand dealers in this city but the wand that was used at the ministry was a special type, the trace I ran has about I'd say an… 85 percent probability rate." Seamus stated as he pulled a quill from his pocket and gestured at Hermione to turn around. Sighing, she relented with slumped shoulders as Seamus held the napkin against her back and started scribbling onto it.

"We've had worse odds, I'd reckon we can take 85." Ron murmured as he watched Seamus write down each of their names on the bottom of the napkin before softly blowing over the ink. One by one each of their names took on a glow as tiny pictures materialized over their titles, Ron squinted and leaned in closer to make out that the symbols above their names were in fact their Patronuses. The red headed Auror made a low whistle and looked towards his counter-part with rapt interest.

"What's this then mate? A new trick you've learned and not shared obviously."

The Irishman merely snorted crudely before wrapping the napkin in his palm whilst giving Hermione an appreciative squeeze on her shoulder before answering .

"Just a way to keep track of you lot, don't want a repeat of Morocco. Our names fade away but our Patronuses will remain. Can't afford to lose anyone in a city like this can we Ronny? Now on to business, we've got limited time and I'm already pushing it as it is."

The city changes quickly from bustling urban landscape to dark and dingy the closer they get to the magical underbelly of Shanghai. They came to a dead end, Hermione and Ron taking point as Seamus gazed at the map studiously, tapping a pattern out on back alleys brick wall.

"There we go, show me what you're hiding beautiful…" The Irishman whispered as dust fell from the brick laden wall and the sound of hard stone scrapping reverberated around the alley. Hermione returned the roguish smirk he shot back at her as he folded the map into his hoodie pocket and led the way in.

She was instantly met with the smell of smoke and rain water, her nostrils flaring at the stench as she took in their surroundings. If you've seen one magical black market you've seen them all surely; the differences between this and Knockturn Alley we're minuscule which gave her an odd sense of relief, the setting being familiar.

As soon as the Trio started making their way through the populace buzzed. They of course were not common folk among the wizarding community so naturally they were instantly recognized, if not for their celebrity gained from Harry or the war; then their obvious post as Aurors made some of the ne'er do wells scatter into dark corners behind many of the shops and stands that littered the narrow street way. Others simply snarled or glared daringly at the Trio as they walked in formation, Hermione leading with Ron and Seamus a little bit behind her; hands gripping their concealed wands as they glared or snarled right back.

It was the red-headed wizard that spoke first.

"Fifty galleons to the first wizard or witch who can point us in the direction of Alabasters Procurements." Ron bellowed as he flashed a coin purse, instantly drawing out one of the patrons. He was grimy, covered in soot and smelled of the day before’s garbage. The street urchin immediately reached for the coin purse only to be slowly moved back by Ron's wand pushing into his forehead.

"I…I may know the whereabouts of that particular establishment, Mr… Auror… Sir… Weasley." The man sniveled, sashaying his hands outward as if to bow. Ron merely sneered; the tip of his wand digging deeper into the man's forehead making him kneel down on the mud covered street way.

The beggar slowly rose his hands in the air to show he was unarmed as he eyed the coin purse held in the red-headed wizards other hand.

"Coin first then location." He bargained slyly.

"You think me daft? Location first or I stun you and drag you down to Azkaban for interfering with Auror business." Ron threatened pressing his wand into the man's chest this time, he shook the coin bag for affect as his gaze turned expectant.

"Yes…yes…fair bargain that is I'd say… All right. Down the alley way, behind the potion works. A red horned dragon on the sign... can't miss it." The street urchin chuckled lowly before he was kicked back on his elbows, the coin purse landing on his stomach.

"If I even smell fowl play when I get there, I'm coming for you…and I'll do more than just stun ya, got it street rat?" Ron threatened before moving down the narrow side street, Hermione and Seamus following behind.

They soon came upon a shack like structure, a wooden sign hanging half off its hinges with an ornate red dragon drawn over it with intricate detail. It seemed oddly out of place from the rest of the stalls that littered the back alley, almost like it had been haphazardly dropped there. Inside the scent of sweat and sandalwood invaded Hermione’s senses and she instantly regretted not choosing to take point with Seamus instead of insisting Ron do it.

She made her way through the dimly lit aisles, passing by shelves filled with various oddities, potions and ingredients. The checkout seemed to be unmanned at the moment and she started to think maybe the owner was out until a figure crashed through a beaded partition behind the counter; an oddly dressed and obviously drunk man springing to his feet.

"Hello, Madam! Welcome to Alabasters, what can I get a lovely lady like yourself? Love potion? Or perhaps you've been scorned already and need a little bit of the spiders venom to procure a small token of revenge? No? No, no, no of course not you look a reader, we just happened have gotten a full stock of tomes… some may or may not be bound by human skin but who can tell? Certainly not I."

He was rather tall Hermione noted, almost too tall for his own shop. The American accent did not go unnoticed by her has he rambled on, pulling small trinkets from underneath the counter to show her. She couldn't help but think he was almost as odd as the shop, his lanky form covered in what looked to be an oversized poncho, hints of a barely washed dress suit showing underneath while on top of his head, placed ever so casually…a fez.

"I'm not here to buy anything." She said; slightly jarring him out of his rant as he stopped to stare at her blankly, a set of rabbits feet dangling from one hand and a shrunken head held in the other.

"Wha-…you… You're not here to buy anything?" He queried, instantly dropping the items from his hands and leaning over the counter. His posture became ridged and his tone annoyed as she simply shook her head.

"Well sweetness if you're not here to buy anything and you don't have an appointment; which I doubt you do because A) I don't believe in phones and B) I don't really make appointments in the first place, you need to leave. You're a pretty thing but I don't cater to lookie loos, so get out."

The bright witch merely cocked her head to the side and pursed her lips before speaking. "You're a muggle, aren't you?"

This seemed to slightly put him at ease, his shoulders relaxing as a lazy smile spread across his lips.

"And you're not with the Shanghai government are you?" He chuckled heartily as he pulled a shot gun from under the counter and unloaded it expertly.

The young Witch merely side glanced the weapon then met his gaze offering a simple head shake.

"Well here I thought I was going to have to shoot you…You and your two guard dogs taking point outside my shop." He said smiling and giving her a wink before pocketing the two shells into his pants pocket.

"Do you know who I am?" She asked, ignoring his quip as she ran her finger over the counter and rubbed the dust collected between her fingertips.

"Am I supposed to? Your people don't tell me much to begin with."

The man straightened his posture as his gaze turned to the door then back to her calculatingly.

"No… That's good that you don't. I'm also like you but that's as much as you need to know, these sort of things are a lot harder when there are preconceived notions." She spoke softly, her tone and posture open to set him at ease.

"Well I can only assume you're someone that matters, people who do what you do normally contact me by other means. It's nice to see someone still believes in the old fashioned ways."

He made his way from around the counter and stood in front of her, his hands placed casually in his pockets before eyeing her up and down; he seemed to be mulling something over, teeth worrying his bottom lip before seemingly making up his mind and shrugging dramatically.

"Well I've decided to cooperate, someone like you wouldn't be here if I didn't do something I wasn't supposed to; so come out with it."

She chuckled lightly before whistling at the door, Ron and Seamus filing in and making their way down opposite aisles with their wands out scanning the various objects.

"I'm from the Aurors department from the Ministry of Magic. Do you know of our line of work?"

He nodded silently, his fingers tapping against his chin as he watched her counter parts poke and prod through his stores inventory.

"I am… The Interpol of the wizarding community. I must have done something real bad then huh?" He asked, his eyes shining mischievously.

"We've come for an inquiry on some of the services you offer, one of the wands you sold has come up in a case and we'd just like to know more about it."

He laughed boisterously then, looking at her as if she were kidding before running his fingers through his wavy hair and turning away from her.

"You're acting as if I've sold some hot piece, someone hold up a liquor store or something? Look the customers I get from your world have a completely different way about things. I don't take names, locations or whereabouts sweetheart I just sell the product to whoever orders it. Be it by package or courier pick up; I never actually get any names on these kinds of transactions."

"Shoddy way to run a business don't ya think?" Seamus chimed in, a condescending smirk adorning his features as he walked up with a small wooden box.

"Excuse me Lucky Charms, I didn't get your name. In fact I didn't get any of your names; so if you're as important as you're letting on; how about we start there before you start touching things you have no idea about?"

Seamus merely smirked wider before sliding the box to Hermione.

"Well I highly doubt your names Alabaster mate so our names shouldn't be your first worry. Now an American muggle selling burner wands with extremely volatile components without a license? That is something to worry about." The Irishman retorted.

The shop owner simply laughed as he raised his hands out from his side and feigned surrender.

"I got no idea what you're talking about Gestapo, I don't even know what half the stuff in here does let alone what it's used for."

"That may be, but the moment my partner set down that aisle you were nervous. When he brought the box up here your heart raced a mile a minute, you knew exactly what he might find and I have a hunch that you know exactly what's in this box and what it's used for." Hermione stated sternly as the shop owner backed up against the counter, his hands covers his face as he groaned in frustration.

"All right, yes it's a wand, one time use only okay? I don't hunt no magical creatures or nothing like that; I use non kill methods and other substitutes. It's completely green okay? No harm. I don't sell it to normal folk and most of the people who order them seem, at least from their letters, to know exactly what to do with it and how to use it."

"You dabble in wand crafting in your spare time?" Hermione quipped.

"Yeah… I don't know I guess. I just know the basics okay, my works always stable… I won't sell nothing that's gonna blow up in someone's face." He pleaded desperately.

"What do you mean by substitutes? Wands take a high amount of skill and knowledge to create, not to mention the correct marriage of components. How can someone like you with no magical training create something like this?" The young witch accused, her finger sliding the cover of the box open to reveal a crudely shaped wand.

"Anything can be made on the cheap, just gotta find the way right? That's my talent; part of my business model, I make these things for a quarter of what I charge. Now I don't know what they do when their shipped outta here and it's none of my business; so whatever's happened I'm going to be upfront with ya… I got no hand in it." The man said shakily as he wiped his brow with back of his jacket sleeve.

The Trio stood silent, the boys eyeing her with side glances and she looked the shop owner up and down. He jolted when she clapped the box shut with her index finger and side tossed it to Ron who caught it expertly.

"Here's what's going to happen: I'm taking that with me and that will be the last wand you ever make. You know who we work for and you are probably somewhat aware of what we can do. If I get any word that you're selling these things again; I will have your shop shut down, your identity wiped, and you will spend the rest of your life in a magically sealed prison without anyone so much as having the forethought of where to come look for you. Am I understood?"

The shop owner simply nodded as he met her hard gaze.

"Good… Thank you Anthony, you've been of great help." Said the young witch before turning on her heel and making her way towards the exit with the boys in tow.

"Wait… how you know my name?!" The man shouted after them only to receive a loud bang and the store bell jingling harshly from the force of it being slammed as a response.

 


	8. Pulse

The Rules of Engagement 

Chapter 8: Pulse

 

* * *

 

A sharp gasp erupted from pink lips, breath short and labored as brown eyes sprung opened to reveal a Van Gogh-like setting. Slowly shapes started to take form; vision clearing enough to reveal an intricately painted ceiling, gothic like in structure with concrete pillars and beams interlocking.

Hermione's world slowly came back to her as she tried to discern where she was. The smell of potions and galvanized metal filled her nostrils and she fought the urge the vomit before pushing herself upright upon shaking limbs. Fingers clung to soft bed sheets as she felt her body mold into the mattress below her, brown eyes flicking back and forth as the young witch started to piece together where she was.

Her hearing had still not returned, but muffled voices echoed in her ear drums as she tried to move forward only to feel a slight tug on her limbs. Her gaze traveled downwards towards her arms to find thin, magical tendrils leading from them to a sphere like object placed behind her bed. The tendrils flickered as she tried to pull her arms free and she felt a slight jolt when their elasticity returned. She had seen these before, a few years ago when Seamus had fallen from scaffolding during one of their field missions, she was in a Mediward…but why?

Her skull instantly throbbed. Flashes of brick and mortar, dust and glass cascading across her cheek as she clawed at a hand around her neck; its vice-like grip getting tighter with every second. The young witch doubled over as the images flashed in her mind, the throbbing in her skull intensifying with each passing moment.

"’Ermione!"

She registered soft arms wrapped around her and the scent of lavender invaded her senses; the sterile smell from earlier being overshadowed by the presence now holding her. She felt her head being coaxed back gently as she shook in pain, gentle hands placing themselves on either side of her head as a pair of thumbs massaged her temples.

"Shhh, please  _Mon Chéri_ … you must be still. You will tear 'ze Vitus lines."

The words were whispered softly, the tips of her ears tingling as recognition slowly came to her consciousness.

"Fleur…"

She barely recognized her own voice. It sounded hoarse and when she tried to swallow there was a dryness that her throat could not dispel.

"Yes, it iz me but please try to relax."

Hermione was soothed monetarily by a soft hand caressing her cheek, fingertips tracing her hairline as worried eyes gazed down upon her.

"The wand… Fleur…where is Ron?" The young witch inquired weakly, her body lurching forward again only to be gently pushed back by the French Auror.

"Your wand is safe, pleaze you must rest."

Hermione only groaned in slight frustration but more in pain as she was again coaxed back down.

"She is as stubborn as always eh?"

Hermione instantly stiffened at the sound of the familiar Bulgarian accent.

_Viktor…_

He was dressed to the nines, a form-fitting tux accentuating all his perfections, but his stance was rigid as he glared at Fleur. She took note that the woman was still in her gown from the Gala; how much time had passed? How long had she been out? She felt the woman heave a deep sigh, her fingers running soothingly through Hermione's brown locks before she stood and slowly made her way to the seeker; a sizable distance between them.

"As alwayz, but right now she needs to rest."

Hermione watched the exchange with fascination. There was a respect there, maybe left over from the tournament all those years ago, but yet something else was present; something she could not place. She supposed that whatever it was; it was the cause of the physical rift they had between one another other presently.

The seeker rubbed the back of his neck, gripping it tightly before regarding the French woman again; his gaze determined.

"Der is a strange feeling of Déjà vu here Delacour. Again here she is: beaten and bruised when ‘Der have been promises made ‘Dat ‘Dis would not happen." The Bulgarians tone was firm as he slipped his now shaking hand from his neck into his pocket as if to hide his wavering restraint.

Fleur seemed to let out a long breath before speaking. "She is a field Auror Viktor, 'Zis is her line of work. She knew full and well, as all who assume 'ze position do, 'zat 'zis is an occupational 'azard."

"An occupational hazard…occupational… She was at a glorified dinner party for Merlin's sake, 'Dis was no occupational hazard Fleur. I saw you with her... one minute she was 'Der the next she was in Shanghai? You let ‘Dis happen." He hissed taking a step forward, his other hand clenching into a fist as his nostrils flared at the blonde Auror.

"She wanted anotherz attention, I waz merely giving her 'ze space she so eagerly desired from me." She retorted, matching his step.

"Oh is ‘Dat it? Of course it would be, you have not changed. You have let your pettiness and jealousy forge a situation that could have been controlled or even avoided." Viktor seethed as he crossed the distance into the French Aurors personal space. The blonde to her credit did not even bat an eyelash, simply clicking her tongue before meeting his fiery gaze; her voice only slightly above a whisper.

"I would be careful Viktor; 'Ze 'ouse you are standing in is made of glass and you are 'olding a very large stone. It would bode well for you to not have 'zis conversation in present company."

Their eyes slowly met Hermione's as the brunette desperately tried to understand what was unfolding in front of her. But it was too much, too much Calming Draught mixed with Murtlap Essence, too much light shining into her eyes, too much left unfinished. With a groan of frustration she tore her gaze away from the former champions and lurched forward, one of the magical tendrils being pulled so taut it snapped; vanishing in a burst of light and magical fragments. They were soon by her side, gently trying to coax her back down as she struggled to free herself.

"The wand… I need that wand. Ronald…he… Where is Ronald?"

"Hermione please, do not fight ‘De potions you need your rest." Viktor pleaded, his eyes beseeching.

For a brief moment she considered it, stopping all this and just letting sleep overtake her; Merlin knew she needed it. She felt Fleurs soft hands move around her shoulders; their grip slightly tight but with an undertone of gentleness that strangely seemed to give her strength and spurred her on further.

"I have to find Ronald… Alabasters….the wand, I have to get it!" She ground out, pushing more against her caregivers. Viktor's grip slid to her side and she was instantly overcome with a sharp pain; like knives slicing the side of her open and needles jabbing into the raw flesh afterwards. The young witches hand gripped the athlete's shoulder, a pulse pushing him back with such a force that he flew across the ward crashing into the potions cart stationed near the door.

Hermione's gaze met Fleurs, the blonde Auror simply sighed before placing her hands on either side of the young witches head; a knowing glint in her eyes.

"Fleur…I didn't…how did I…" She stuttered out, her body shaking fiercely.

"Shhhh,  _être calmer mon amour, dormir maintenant._ " Hermione heard Fleur whisper softly before feeling soft fingertips press into her temples and her world go black.

* * *

 

 

_2 hours earlier…_

_The trio stood silently in the elevator as it slowly made its accession to their rendezvous point; Hermione's fingertips worrying one of the loose threads from her jacket as she eyed the simple wooden box in her hand._

" _I would never have believed a muggle could…ever… I mean it's a wand for Merlin's sake." Seamus muttered, breaking the silence._

" _No offense Hermione…"_

 _She simply shrugged as she turned the box in her hand._ " _We have a penchant for not leaving well enough alone; it's our gift and curse."_

_Ron nodded solemnly before taking the box from her hand and stuffing it into his pants pocket._

" _You also have a penchant for taking your work home with you, I'll hold on to it and we'll look at it in the morning, all right?"_

_She could feel Seamus and Ron's insistent body language as she stared them down before shrugging her shoulders in defeat._

" _Thank you, 'Mione. Like I've always said: you need to sort out your priorities."_

_The Irishman nodded in agreement as the elevator jerked to a halt, a sharp ring indicating they had reached the top as the set of doors opened to reveal their port key stationed in the middle of the room._

_Hermione was the first to exit and instantly a feeling of uneasiness overtook her. Her counterparts seemed to take no notice as they made their way around her and towards the construction hat that Seamus had enchanted as their exit point; too caught up in their own conversation to notice the young witch's concerned scowl._

" _You and Susan make up then?" Ron asked as they kneeled down on either side of the port key; hands hovering over it at the ready._

" _Eh, I came home sloshed…we shagged…shagged again and now she's just slightly perturbed with me rather than full raging bitch." Seamus chuckled._

 _Ron simply smiled before replying._ " _So…you're happy then?"_

 _The Irishman's lips curled slowly into a beaming smile._ " _Aye man, I'm over the moon."_

_It was then they seemed to notice the absence of their third. Seamus eyed the witch curiously as she stood a few feet away, her scowl growing deeper._

" _Oi, Hermione? We're going yeah?"_

_She blinked rapidly suddenly noticing how far she had fallen behind. This feeling was familiar, but she couldn't place it, she wasn't sure, but something felt out of sorts and the feeling only got stronger as she made her way towards them._

_Seamus gave her a reassuring smile as she kneeled down in front of them and closed her eyes to prepare herself._

" _Count of three…" Seamus breathed, trying to steady himself._

" _One…"_

_Hermione's eyes instantly shot open, something was not right._

" _Two…"_

_She started to become panicked as the feeling intensified tenfold, her body shifting uncomfortably and eyes darting around the room. Ron took notice first and he gently set his hand on her side, giving her a reassuring smile before closing his eyes. She relented and did the same, but the overwhelming panic still held her as she tried to steady her breathing._

" _Three…"_

_There's a pull when using a Port Key akin to that of apparition or using the Floo network, they all had different ranges, but it always started with a pull. Hermione felt that pull, that slight tug forward as the world around her started to blur. She always closed her eyes, never able to take the full rotation of the Port Key without feeling like she would empty her insides but for some reason she defied her ritual and opened them._

_It happened in seconds, one moment she was being pulled forward the next she caught movement from the corner of her eye and turned in response only to see a pair of long arms and bulging shoulders wrap around her body._

_She felt and heard it then, the undeniable force of apparition and a loud pop before she felt herself pulled this way and that. She could feel her body being molded and skewed; almost as if her insides were trying to escape through the top of her skull. Apparition never had finesse, no matter how calm the mind; but this…this was unnecessarily rough and chaotic. She finally felt herself resurface, but the force of it sent her straight into what felt like a cement wall, her body seized at the force of it and she landed on her stomach only adding to her disorientation._

_When her vision cleared a leather clad boot came into view. Her eyes traced the slightly worn material; plums of dust billowing over it in staccato-like patterns from her ragged breath._

" _Bit of a harsh ride ain't it Princess?" The voice was male and had traces of youth but forced maturity. American, southern from what she could gather._

_She cast her eyes upwards, following the boot up strong legs and a thick torso to be greeted by a devious grin. Whoever this man was he had pulled her mid-port, something not easily accomplished but from his relaxed stance it seemed he had done this before. Clever, using apparition to assist with the pull, she'd have to remember that. Her captor snorted, taking in her surprised gaze as he knelt down to her level, his eyes a pale blue that projected a large ego and a significant amount of over confidence._

" _I couldn't have your friends coming back for you. This way you'll have plenty of time to talk without any interruptions." He drawled, an over pronounced smile plastered across his lips before he stood._

_She slowly tried to push herself up but winced in pain when she felt a sharp tear at her side._

_She had been splinched…_

" _Yeah I've been told that stings, sorry about that."_ _He stepped over her and out of view; she could faintly hear voices as she tried to let her body and mind calm down enough to accept the pain. Her hand moved to her side and she instantly felt liquid there, it was no shock when she pulled it back to see her palm covered in her own blood._

' _Okay, Hermione, time to get it together…remember your training'. She thought to herself, muttering protection and healing spells as she tried to focus. The pain was overbearing, like being seared from the inside out, the wound was raw she knew that, but she couldn't let it overcome her._

' _All right… four…maybe five in the room'. Her gaze moved from one corner to the other quickly, memorizing her surroundings._

' _You're up high, possibly in the adjacent building. Windows to the right and back…Okay…you might be able to get your wand free and jinx at least three before trying anything. There's no doors though…might have to go out the window and use a levitating spell to break the fall...'_

_Hermione carefully moved her wand out of her jacket pocket at the sound of footsteps coming closer and quickly snuck it into the holster concealed by her sleeve. She groaned in pain as she was picked up from behind, her captor taking no sympathy for her injury as he pushed her forward and she landed with a harsh thud on her knees._

" _You could not let it be…could you Suka?" She recognized the thick Bulgarian accent instantly, images of a dusty room, sharp knives and books flooding her mind._

" _Emil Nayden…" She breathed, her eyes looking up to see the battered and bruised henchman from Morocco scowling down at her. He was dressed in all black, a long over coat covering his shoulders with an intricate leather sling concealed behind it. His arm must have been injured during the crash, but she noted with slight pride his hand was still bandaged, the wound she left him not healing as quickly as he may have hoped._

' _Must be a reason why he's here, he can't be involved with the ministry case…he's cunning but not smart enough. Three men behind him and two by the adjacent window…' Her mind quickly started to formulate a plan, was it the best plan? No, but a plan none the less._

" _De little birds were whispering you had been taken off ‘Dis investigation. Imagine my surprise to get a call 'Dat you had dropped by one of my favorite establishments, asking questions and taking 'Dat of which does not belong to you." He sneered; crouching down to her level, his wand twirling precariously in his hand that was hanging from the sling._

" _Of course, you were never supposed to be in Morocco to begin with; so why was I surprised when you never listened in the first place?"_

_The young witch chuckled, almost giggled really. Of course Emil had connections to Alabasters, she made a note to investigate the shop further when she was out of this; obviously the shop was more involved in the wizarding underbelly than she thought, it could be a break for many open cases at the ministry if she could find the client list._

" _I'm a muggle, I have a penchant for not leaving well enough alone." She chuckled out darkly as his scowl deepened. He gestured with a nod to the man behind her who roughly grabbed her by her curly locks, forcing her head back._

" _So confident for being outnumbered; tsk you still do not understand what's going to happen to you, do you?" He ground out harshly._

" _Why you here? Hm? The French will not be happy when ‘Dey find out what you have been up to little one." He teased._

" _I thought I'd take in the sights, get one of those little cat statues that wave…you know the usual." The young witch retorted, her eyebrow arching as if to say he should know better than to ask. He merely chuckled before backhanding her, the other man’s grip still holding the back of her head for balance._

" _Brendon!" Emil bellowed, his gaze never leaving hers._

_She felt the man behind her shift uncomfortably._

" _Dis overzealous idiot was supposed to give you to me unscathed so I may have a …blank canvas to work with." She watched his eyes shift to the man who had grabbed her. Brendon's eyes were cast downward submissively, teeth worrying his bottom lip as he shook his head._

" _Sorry, she gave a bit of a struggle; it was unavoidable." He mumbled as his eyes averted the furious gaze of Emils._

" _She's alive at least, you are lucky you are good at what you do." Emil stated sternly before turning his attention back to the young witch._

" _You are here not by accident, something else… but what? Could you have known I would be here? Did Kosta give me up? No ‘Dat cannot be, he is in Gwenhael and the French are not generous enough to let near ‘Der investigation. So what is it eh?"_

_The Bulgarian sighed heavily when he only received silence as a response, the brunettes glare determined._

" _So stubborn. All right, keep your little secret; it won't be of importance anyway. I just want you to remember krasiva: I told you, sooner or later you will mind me." He whispered darkly while moving the tip of his wand along her jugular._

" _And yet again you've just wasted my time …" Hermione retorted before taking a deep breath and swiftly kicking her leg upwards, the pointed end of her boot connecting directly with his temple. The Bulgarian hunched over in pain as the young Auror rolled out of the way of various hexes from his counterparts. She quickly stunned two in succession before getting to her feet and side stepping Brendon's grasp, sending him flying across the room with a quick nonverbal spell._

" _Grab her!" The Bulgarian groaned as Hermione narrowly dodged a cutting spell then with a quick flick of her wrist rebounding it back towards him. Emil quickly turned just in time, the spell grazing his cheek as he growled, kicking his legs to propel him off his back and into a crouching position. The wound along her side roared with pain, but she remained determined, her eyes scanning over the room for an exit point. She had little time: the American, or 'Brendon' as he was apparently called, had recovered and was already charging towards her._

_She was trapped and with danger coming from all sides she could only think of one option she had left._

_She had a plan…a very stupid plan._

' _Merlin…such a horrible idea.' She thought before launching herself backwards out of the window, her back hitting against the glass hard before it shattered. She felt her heart hit her throat as her body went into freefall. Air rushed past her back as she descended knowing she only had a few more seconds to cast her levitating spell before she would reach the bottom. Just before Leviosa could leave her lips a hulking figure came into view, their arms outstretched and gaze murderous._

' _Fuck… The American…'_

_He quickly grabbed her midair; only a few feet from the ground and she felt the pull of apparition overtake her again, a plum of dust billowing from where they were supposed to land. One moment all she felt was stillness then the next she was being hurled into a dark alleyway against a metal dumpster, the force from her fall being used to project her hard enough to leave an indentation of her body in it. Hermione groaned in pain and sputtered for breath as she tried to find her footing, her hands gripping anywhere she could to could pull herself up._

_As soon as she was able to stand he lunged at her again with a fierce yell, quickly apparating to the end of the alleyway and using the force to slam her against the bricks._

" _You think you're so smart huh? Is that it? I know this city like the back of my hand…there's nowhere I haven't been." He growled grabbing her again and before she knew it they were on top of the fire escape, her body halfway over the railing and teetering as he loosened the grip on the front of her jacket. She clawed desperately at his arm as he let her go, her body careening backwards over the railing and falling towards the hard concrete below. But again just before landing he caught her mid-fall, apparating and using the force yet again to slam her against the opposite wall of the alley._

_Hermione groaned in pain, her arm clutched tight around her side as she tried to use her other arm to crawl away from her attacker._

" _Fuck this blank canvas shit! He'll get you however I see fit and when I'm done with you that splinch on your side will seem like nothing to the pain you're gonna feel sweetheart." He growled, steadily making his way towards her._

_Hermione's breath came out panicked as she searched for her wand, but it had fallen out of her grasp long ago. She tried for an Accio spell and reached her hand outwards, the energy from her wand tingling her fingertips but just before it could reach her grasp Brendon slapped her hand away causing the wand to suddenly veer off over the rooftops._

_Knuckles and bone collided with her cheek sending her world spinning; the musk of cedar and sweat filling her senses as Brendon stood over her, his grasp tight on her collar. Suddenly she could feel everything, from the wound on her side, dripping tiny rivers of blood along her abdomen, to her attackers tightening fist pulling back to strike her again. She felt her pain and panic all wrapped up with his rage and power. It was an odd sensation, to be so aware suddenly and to feel everything. It was like they were moving in slow motion, she could see him clearly now; arm cocking back for another strike as her blood from his previous blow glided off his knuckles in tiny droplets. She knew this one would hurt more than the last so she braced herself, her eyes closing and her body twisting defensively as he used his grip on her collar to bring her closer._

_She expected the pain, but it never came. All she could feel was cool air across her bruised cheek and the breath of Brendon’s heavy breathing; there was a stillness that she could not place._

_Cautiously she turned to gaze at her tormentor, his eyes were bulging wide as his body shook with exertion; arm stuck in mid swing. Suddenly his back straightened and he slid backwards as though he was being pulled. His grip of her immediately broke as he clawed at his neck, straining against it, but the force only seemed to increase. The young witch watched with rapt curiosity as he forcefully knelt down, a groan of agony spilling from his mouth._

" _Stop…" He sputtered as his arms slammed down to his side and his back arched, the faint cracking of bones echoing throughout the alley._

_The young witch shook her head in shock and disbelief as she watched the scene unfold._

" _I… It's not me…I'm not…"_

_It was then she saw it; a faint glow from the end of the alley becoming brighter as the figure approached, its walk purposeful and full of grace. A wave of magical presence washed over the alleyway and Hermione was hit with a force so powerful she felt herself buckle, not of pain but of…something…else._

_Her thoughts broke when she heard her attacker release a groan of sheer agony as the figure came into view, she was left speechless._

" _Fleur…"_

_She was otherworldly, truly. The young witch's breath was stolen from her as she watched the blonde Aurors ethereal like form stop just behind her attackers, long lithe fingers gripping the back of his hair and arching his neck back even further._

" _Brendon Wilhelm… how unfortunate that you have found yourself here tonight." Fleur murmured._

_She was still dressed in her gown, Hermione noted, the bottom of it fluttering around the unseen power that Fleur seemed to unleash. Brandon's mouth hung slack as the Veela gripped the back of his head tighter, purple veins like roads on a map forming from his neck to the top of his head._

" _I can feel your fear Brendon… Did you feel hers when you were' zrowing 'er around like a rag doll, hm? Do you know what 'zat feels like…? Maybe you should." She spoke evenly and simply stepped back as his body lifted into the air._

_Hermione's eyes widened as awe became replaced by fear._

" _No! Fleur, please…let him go." She pleaded, trying to move but her injuries had caught up to her. A roar of pain escaped her lips as she slid back against the wall._

_The noise seemed to catch the Veelas attention, her pupil-less eyes showing concern in a flash of a second._

" _You are badly injured…Pleaze try not to move." Fleur spoke softly. Her tone was caring and nurturing; a stark contrast from what was going on in front of her. Brendon's body strained against Fleurs magic, his joints cracking as he tried to break himself free. Hermione knew it was only a matter of time before Fleur stopped playing with him. She read enough in school about the Veela to know that he was going to die if she did not calm the French Auror down soon._

" _Fleur, please… release him. I'll be all right, I need to get back to Ron and Seamus; they're bound to be worried." She reasoned but was only pushed back further by the unseen force the Veela was emitting, the blonde muttering in French before turning her attention back to Brendon's levitating form._

_Fleurs prey groaned as the veins in his neck turned a deeper purple, arms curling further behind him._

' _Great Hermione, somehow you've managed to piss her off even more.' The young witch thought darkly, deciding to take a different approach._

" _Please, Fleur. The sooner I get medical attention the better…please just leave him be…" She implored her voice straining as she managed to get onto her feet._

_It was like a switch had been flipped; the aura surrounding the blond Auror instantly faded as Brendon fell to the ground with a loud thump. Fleur stepped over his hyperventilating body daintily whilst reaching her hand out to catch Hermione's wand which she had apparently silently summoned. When Fleur stopped and kneeled in front of her; she could not contain her gasp as she watched Fleurs eyes slowly start to fade back to normal. A jolt shot through her body when the French woman gently caressed her cheek her eyes showing concern._

" _I will take you zomewhere safe, I know you've been 'zhrough it more 'zan you care for tonight, but I must use apparition to get us 'zere. Just one last time… est-ce OK?" The words flowed out softly from pink lips and Hermione found herself strangely transfixed as she merely nodded, not being able to articulate the words needed to respond._

_Fleurs eyes closed and a look of relief seemed to wash over the French woman's features before she gently turned the brunette's hands over with her palms facing up; finger tips touching hesitantly before moving down to grasp slim wrists._

" _Do you trust me?" She asked, her accent barely noticeable now as she gazed into Hermione's eyes._

_The young witch met Fleurs gaze fully, shaking limbs becoming still and calm before answering._

" _Yes…"_


	9. Secrets

The Rules of Engagement

Chapter 9: Secrets

* * *

 

 

The clang of metal against metal reverberated through the concrete training room. Two athletic forms danced around each other; only meeting when the metal rods collided together in an intricate ballet of sparks and ingot.

They finally pulled apart with a forceful push, their chests heaving as their lungs pulled in oxygen desperately.

"You're slow." Seamus spat harshly, his eyes flashing with a determined spark as he flicked the sweat from his brow with a well-placed neck crack.

Hermione simply heaved a heavy sigh as she felt her body finally settle. Her palms were sweaty as she adjusted her stance, flipping the metal rods to their opposite end while she met the Irishman's gaze.

"Maybe I'm just holding back."

She received a scoff in return, the Irishman shaking his head before he lunged forward, the rod narrowly missing the brunette's face as she side stepped him. They spun to face each other taking only a beat before the Irishman attacked again his left swinging over her head as she ducked, but his right coming to meet her neck with a stinging blow. The young witch hissed in pain, her hands immediately dropping her weapons to grasp at the reddening area.

Hindered by slight embarrassment at being bested and annoyance from the pain in her neck, she awkwardly corrected her stance ready to go again before her eyes met deep blue ones that shone with disappointment. Suddenly she didn't care about her neck or the Irishmen's sudden attitude, all she could think of what had led them to this moment. The past few weeks had not been kind to their friendship. After getting back from the Mediward; Hermione immediately went into physical therapy to get her body acclimated to field work. She had not spent any real time with the Irishman since that night in Shanghai and it had filled her with such regret she owled him as soon as she was able to spare a free moment, knowing her old friend could never resist a sparring practice.

Their session had been strangely quiet till now, Seamus' disposition distant for the entire hour up until this point. She regarded him curiously as she tried to assess what she had done wrong, he had been so mournful when she was in recovery; constantly at her side till she was able to be released from intensive care. The man in front of her now was a far cry from only a week ago.

"See...You're just slow." He finally retorted, his tone apathetic and frigid.

The harsh clang of the metal rods hitting the floor jolted her when he turned his back to her and began walking off. Her heart stung from the harshness of the moment, the visceral tear that seemed to be between them so suddenly.

"Um… have I done something? What is this? What's going on Shay?"

Broad shoulders shrugged indifferently before his body came to a halt, half turning to acknowledge her.

"Have you done something? Don't play fecking coy with me Granger, I ain't Ronny… I'm not gonna put faith into your hard-headedness." He growled, still not meeting her gaze.

Hermione flinched at the use of her last name before steeling herself and making her way to him in a few confident strides.

"Don't you get gruff with me Seamus Finnegan, you're cross with me and I demand to know why." She hissed, turning the Irishman by his shoulders to face her.

"I'm not cross…"

"Yes, you are."

"I'm not, you're just being a ninny with no right sense-"

"I'm being a ninny? You're the one pouting like someone stole your chocolate frog and saying the most childish, and may I add, hurtful things you've ever said to me-"

"Because yeh just don't get it-"

"What? What don't I get?"

"Yeh could have died and you don't even give a boggarts arse!"

The room fell silent, the only sound their heavy breathing as they stared one another down. The Brunette seemed taken back as she searched her counterparts features for clarity.

"As soon as you woke up you went off, getting back into the physicals and the training, shirking your visits with Madam Heilwig… Yeh, I checked and yeh haven't been there in three days!" He seethed.

The young witch scowled before turning from his gaze.

"I… I've felt fine…more than fine. I don't need some overzealous Mediwitch poking at me every five minutes."

His glare only intensified when he grabbed her by her shoulders. His eyes were staring straight into hers as he suddenly moved one of his hands and pulled up the side of her black tank top; fingers grazing rather roughly along her side before bringing them up to her line of sight.

Pale fingertips were lined with crimson as Hermione's eyes focused from his hand to perturbed blue eyes, it was automatic and she couldn't help the answer before it slipped out.

"I'm fine…"

This, of course, was not the retort he wanted to hear because he dropped his hand immediately; shoulders tensing in frustration.

"Yeh've been bleedin for the past half hour, how can yeh not know? How can yeh not feel it Hermione? Do yeh feel anything?"

She simply pushed his hand away before readjusting her tank top; her teeth worrying her lower lip.

"I feel it alright? But I can't Shay, after what happened I can't be weak anymore. I won't allow it." She said purposefully.

"I know what happened to Viktor shook yeh up, but that ain't yer cross to bear. The amount of potion in yeh should have had yeh knocked out but as always yeh were being stubborn." Seamus' retort came out as more of a sigh, an exasperated tone lacing every word. The Irishman's stance seemed to soften a bit as he grabbed at his sweat-soaked undershirt and wrung the bottom between his fingers, a nervous habit since school days.

"Anyways, he told yeh he was fine. He wasn't cross or nothin; all he was concerned about was yeh getting better."

Hermione scoffed, the tip of her tongue running over her teeth before she let out a frustrated breath.

"Yes, he keeps saying that, but with a broken shoulder so close to Quidditch season I care to think otherwise."

The Irishman simply nodded before awkwardly rubbing the back of his head.

"Look I'm sorry, I shouldn't had said those things…well, I should'a but not in that way."

The young witch regarded him before shaking her head and chuckling. Their fights were never really fights, they couldn't stay mad at each other for very long but Hermione still felt the sting every time it happened. He was worried and understandably so, but she could take care of herself, she's not the same girl from school anymore and she was hoping one day he'd see that.

"Apology accepted… I think." She gave him a gentle shove on his shoulder, his signature deep chuckle echoing as he stumbled back dramatically.

They both jolted when the double doors of the training room were thrown open and a seething Madam Heilwig was revealed.

"Miss Granger! What did I tell you about leaving your bed much less the Mediward!? Get back this instant young lady!"

Wincing at the red faced Healer, they turned to look at on another; both knowing their training session was over. Hermione conceded and gave the Irishman's arm a squeeze, making her way towards her caregiver with her hands up in the air.

"All right, All right. No need to get in a fuss I'm coming!"

Seamus watched as the brunette was practically dragged out of the training room, a severe tongue lashing being dealt as the doors slammed shut.

 

* * *

 

 

Hermione poked at her rice pudding half-heartedly. After receiving a stern lecture from Heilwig, she was ordered to eat and to remain in bed until the Mediwitch was sure the sealing spell had taken to her wound. Of course this was Hermione and she had grown up with Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley; so she was sure as hell not going to follow the rules or be treated like some sick kitten for long.

The Head Healer had tucked her in so tightly that when she was finally able to pull the covers off herself she let out a deep sigh of relief. She adjusted her hospital shirt and made sure to tie the drawstrings on the ward issued sweat pants that seemed a size too big for her before slowly adjusting her position on the bed as to not put too much weight on her wounded side.

Bare feet padded softly along marble floors as the brunette tip-toed by the intern healer. His back was to her and his attention was currently on a small radio that seemed to be blaring one of the Quidditch prelim matches. She slinked by him with expert practice; years of training proving to be worthwhile.

Once in the clear she decided she would explore. The ministry most recently started treating all Auror injuries in house. After the war St. Mungo's proved to be too overcrowded and not to mention the risk of housing an agent of the law in civilian wards was too great. This way Aurors were treated with first priority and could easily be close to their work if need be.

She preferred being held here anyway, security was a little laxer when watching them, seeing as most who took the post were fellow Aurors themselves; they tended to be a little more lenient with their own kind. Well, that used to be the case at least until Madam Heilwig took a position as Head Healer.

More overbearing than Molly Weasley herself, the Healer was always doting over her patients. Most found it enjoyable, never having to lift a finger and have a motherly presence always attending to their every need. Well, not Hermione. She had grown sick of it since the first day and she was constantly ignoring the old bats orders to stay in bed.

Delicately she snuck towards the Mediwards exit. Seeing as Seamus was obviously cross with this sort of behavior, she knew she could find solace with Ron who would practically welcome her with open arms. He was always one for breaking the rules and had a similar dislike for the Head Healer from his own previous experiences. She longed to see Harry but knew he would instantly disapprove; so Ron it was.

Just as her fingertips brushed the cold brass of the exit doors she heard one of the side doors opening. Quickly she reacted; rolling to the floor and through one of the adjacent doors just before a team of healers entered. Her hand instantly gripped her side as a dull pain shot through her system. She still wasn't fully healed and her side was an ever constant reminder. After taking a moment for the pain to subside she observed her surroundings, she had never been to this part of the ward before but it would be better to avoid the main entrance for now as to not be spotted.

Cautiously she set down the dim hallway, her eyes raking over paint cracked walls. This ward seemed older, less updated than the rest of the facility and had the feeling of being hurriedly put together. She came to an opening with a glass wall; its light illuminating the remaining pathway. The faint sound of medical instruments echoing eerily throughout the hallway as she made her way towards the ominous glass room.

The young witch gasped suddenly and staggered back when she was faced with familiar pale blue eyes, ones that just weeks ago had been alight with immense rage but now only held a vacant stare.

"Merlin…Br…Brendon?"

Her voice came out as a hoarse whisper as she clutched at her chest, the sheer shock of his disposition rendering her suddenly cold and frightened.

Brendon's fingers merely twitched, his demeanor unchanged as Hermione looked over his limp form perched upright on the hospital gurney. His neck and face still possessed faint purple veins, leading from the collar of his hospital gown to the center and corners of his eyes, lips chapped and breaking with slight red streaks from being unkempt.

The man was inert…utterly catatonic.

All of a sudden she felt ill. She had not given the man one thought since waking and though she had numerous questions about Fleurs sudden appearance; she had not once given thought to what may have happened to her captor.

Unexpectedly the nausea she felt dissipated and she felt and instant calm over take her body. She registered the faint scent of lavender and vanilla before a figure made its way from the shadows.

"I hope you do not 'zink ill of me for 'zis."

Hermione jumped, her back slamming against the opposite wall as her hand clutched tighter at her hospital shirt. Panicked eyes met calm blue as the witch tried to stop her heart from beating out of her chest.

"Fleur…Gods…how…where did you…"

The French Auror merely gave a small smile before pulling a crumpled napkin from her coat pocket and showing the younger witch.

"Seamus gave it to me 'zat night… I suppose I should have returned it but given your 'abit for running off; I 'zought I'd 'old on to it a little while. Better I find you 'zan Heilwig non?"

Hermione slowly nodded before taking the napkin from her. Their fingers brushed and a jolt shot through the brunette's body causing her to retract her hand quickly.

A look of hurt flashed across Fleurs features for only a moment before being replaced with a neutral expression.

"The old bat wise to me yet?" Hermione quipped breathlessly as she tried to calm herself down. Fleur always seemed to surprise her, always seemed to know where she was or what she was doing. It was slightly unnerving and she found herself feeling a slight tinge of annoyance at the revelation.

The softest of chuckles filled the brunette's ears as the blonde witch shook her head, a smirk crossing her lips briefly. "No, she is currently occupied with a flooded utilitiez ward, nasty business it looked like."

Hermione could have sworn she saw Fleur wink before the blonde turned her attention to the glaring elephant in the room.

They were silent for a moment, the breathing apparatus hooked to Brendon's face being the only sound; the slow pumping of air echoing around them.

Hermione was the first to break the silence. "What did you do to him?"

It came out harsher than she meant it to, but it was still a question that had been on her mind since that night. Fleur merely shrugged, leaning against the glass as her eyes regarded her victim briefly before meeting Hermione's expectant gaze.

"My thrall... I used my thrall." The blonde Auror stated simply before clearing her throat and turning away from the glass partition.

Hermione's features must have been marred with confusion because Fleur seemed to steel herself before speaking again.

"Obviously you know of it in its subdued form, ze attraction and what not."

She waved her hand dismissively, assuming the younger witch was fully aware of Veela and this particular trait to which the brunette merely nodded; gesturing for her to continue.

"Well it can be used in 'ozer ways besides as a defensive mechanism; when amplified it can act like a paralyzer of sorts..." The French woman explained. She looked uneasy as Hermione's brows frowned in concentration; taking the information in.

"He will be okay in a few days." The blonde witch assured before regarding Brendon's form briefly, her teeth worrying her bottom lip.

"Well... week's possibly. I may ‘ave been a little over zealous."

The blush that coated Fleurs cheeks caused Hermione's heart to flutter. It was a surprise reaction, one that she did not expect to have when it came to her rival. That's what Fleur was, wasn't she? She thought back to her fourth year during the tournament, how everyone had seemed to be enraptured with the French blonde. Then Ron's awkward gawking whenever Fleur had entered the room, motor skills and what little tact he had long forgotten when she was in their presence. But then she thought of the cottage, gentle whispers and hands tending to her with the utmost care and concern; the scent of vanilla and lavender whenever she was near.

Soft fingers brushed her arm and a familiar shock shot up Hermione's spine bringing her out of her daze.

"Where did you go?" Fleurs tone was soft as she slowly pulled her hand back, her fingertips rubbing together curiously.

"Sorry, just… thinking back." Hermione murmured before rubbing the spot Fleur had touched and turning away from the blonde.

"I hope it was sumzing good 'zen." The blonde followed Hermione's movements but kept a respectful distance.

Hermione did not answer, afraid of what it would be. They had never been close yet for the past month it seemed Fleur had become a constant fixture in her life. From the night she was brought in Fleur had made regular visits; adjusting her pillow or fetching water. She would often sit with the young witch in silence while Hermione read and had not once displayed dissatisfaction with the situation. There were so many questions, so many things unanswered. Viktor refused to speak of anything else other than how she was recovering and when the subject of Fleur was brought up, even in passing, his eyes seemed to darken with a sort of vaguely subdued ire.

"Fleur what happened that night?"

She could tell the French Auror knew what she was referring to. A look of regret for not bringing up another topic marred Fleurs face for only a second before being replaced again with a neutral one.

"You have many questions I know… All 'zat I am willing to answer, within reason of course." She quickly added.

Hermione merely worried her bottom lip before gesturing her to follow. She could not be in Brendon's presence anymore; the sight of it was too much and she felt a pang of guilt every time she took notice of the instruments robotic symphony in the background.

They made their way through the door she came, the French Auror guiding Hermione into a sitting area before gesturing the young witch to sit in front of her.

Hermione relented but fidgeted, tucking her sleeves into the palm of her hand nervously as she avoided expectant blue eyes. Air pulled into her lungs harshly before releasing, steeling her nerves for the conversation to come.

"It's not that I'm not grateful, really I am. If you hadn't shown when you had; who knows what would have happened? I just want to put the pieces together Fleur and I know how protective Veela are of their culture and I would never ask to break that confidence you must know this. But every day I stop and I just think to myself, Merlin Fleur that night… you were… you…Please, I really don't mean to offend- "

Fleur smiled before holding her hand up to cease the young woman's rambling.

"You 'ave not offended me Hermione, please do not 'zink zat you ‘ave. You're questions are perfectly understandable."

The brunette nodded and looked up at the blonde witch expectedly as she wrapped her arms around herself; finally taking notice of how cold the room was.

Fleur took a deep breath and leaned back against a marble column. Her eyes traveled around the room before seeming to settle on a spot next to the young witch instead of meeting her gaze.

"I guess I should start from when I first noticed you 'ad left. I was merely curious because Monsieur Weasley had gone missing and ze Gala had gone on for an hour without Monsieur Finnegan making a scene; as was 'ze norm for 'zis sort of gazering…"

 

* * *

 

 

_Fleur sighed as she ran the heated washcloth gently over her face and neck. The night had taken an odd turn, one that she was not prepared for and she had little resolve for keeping up the perfect guest routine for much longer. Her hand clenched into a tight fist as she tried to stop the shaking; it took nearly all her resolve to not grab hold of Hermione's arm possessively and hiss at Lycus when he had interrupted their conversation. But alas, she had quickly reminded herself that Hermione had to make her own decisions and far be it from her to prevent the brunette from doing what she wanted. Rationalizing like an adult was good but still didn't make the situation any better. She silently cursed herself for forgetting her calming draught at home, foolishly too preoccupied with straightening her appearance than taking care of her health._

_Cerulean eyes gazed up at their mirrored reflection. Crow's feet crept at the corner of them and her skin was lackluster with blemishes that maybe was hard for anyone else to notice, but Fleur saw them. She saw them grow in depth and size every day and the potions her mother gave her, though helping with the physical marks, did nothing to help the sickness she felt on the inside._

_She had to let the Veela out soon but taking over the Stoyan case had left little time for her to unwind and she could feel the beast clawing at her insides, even more so after recent events._

_Sick of the sight she pushed herself away and made her way out of the lavatory and into the grand hall. It was oddly quiet, she had been to the Ministry only a handful of times, but each visit was as hectic as the last. Wizards and their politics, she could write a book on the uselessness of bureaucracy but alas she worked for the very beast she detested so much. How she longed for Shell cottage and her garden; the smell of the beach and the feel of granules of sand in between her toes as she perfected her craft with wards and counter curses. But she could not dwell, she was in her line of work for a bigger reason, one that constantly alluded her and barely knew she existed but worth all of the danger and sacrifice all the same._

_As she turned to make her way back towards the ballroom the familiar sound of glass breaking stopped her. She turned on her heel gracefully, casting her attention to where the sound came from._

_The men's lavatory._

_It was odd because she specifically remembered Lamont lecturing Seamus and Ronald on their behavior at the Gala only an hour ago; his face turning red with frustration as he brought up a rather humorous story of how the young wizards had put the restroom in a severe state of disarray after using one of George's highly explosive crafts. It was with that fact in mind why she crept silently towards the lavatory, her fingers gently pushing the warped door open before grimacing at the loud creak that reverberated from it._

_Her eyes went from vigilant to surprise when she saw a familiar figure hunched over the sink, their eyes focused on their own reflection in a broken mirror._

" _Ovid?" She spoke softly, but the serviceman jumped as if she had yelled, his hand knocking over a dark brown bottle off the edge of the sink. Her eyes followed as it slowly rolled to her feet, a milky like substance spilling from it._

_She kneeled gracefully, plucking it from the ground and smelling its contents._

" _Delacour…what are you doing here?"_

_His voice was gruff which made her gaze take in his form. His eyes were slightly bloodshot and looked worn, hair looking more out of sorts than before as he slinked a shaking hand behind his back, trying to portray a normal stance._

" _I needed some air…looks like we both ‘ave different ways of coping with 'zose stuffed shirts no? Milk of ze poppy a common choice for you now a days?" She teased before coming closer, dangling the bottle in her hand._

" _A prescription from a dear old family Mediwitch, sometimes the old ways are the best." He cleared his throat roughly, his eyes trying not follow her movements._

" _Now, now Lycus. We both are from old lineage and **we both**  know zat zis iz not a normal prescription. I find myself wiz a conundrum; servicemen using illegal substanzes in a house of law and justice and my job being to report 'zese sort of 'zings being a glaringly heavy responsibility on my shoulderz." Her smirk grew wider as the man shifted uncomfortably, his eyes darting to the bottle in her hand and swallowing._

_He seemed to make a decision then, his body moving swiftly to pin her against the bathroom wall, rough hands grasping at her shoulders before loosening only slightly as he whispered._

" _Give it up Delacour, **we both**  know you aren't going to say anything. You've got your feathers in a twist over that lovely girl and you're using this slight moment of weakness to your advantage. I can't say that a part of me doesn't desire this side of you but none the less; you forget I know things as well. Secrets so tantalizing, so… delicious that you should strongly consider calling it even." His gaze traveled to her bust line as he spoke, his grip moving from her shoulders down her arms before wrapping around her wrists._

_She noted the slight painful squeeze he gave them before lifting her hand and gently taking the bottle from her loosened grasp._

" _Good girl, always making the smart choice."_

_His smirk was wolfish before swigging the bottle towards his lips and downing the rest of its contents. A euphoric smile spread across his lips as he closed his eyes and then opened them, the redness from before a faint whisper as he again trailed his gaze from her eyes down her body._

" _Have I told you how amazing you look in that dress tonight?"_

_The blonde Auror barely contained her eye roll as she strained against his grasp before replying._

" _Many times, more 'zan I care for. Now release me or I will take 'zose fingers and break 'zem in so many places 'zat you'll barely be able to salute to 'zat fat drunkard you call a minister." Her tone was dangerous and glare practically deadly as she wrenched her wrists from his grasp and pushed him back with little effort._

_Ovid only chuckled, rolling his shoulder before tossing the empty bottle into a nearby pile of rubble._

" _So feisty my dear, I love it! God, you are wasted on the meek, the French have no idea they have…that little songbird has no idea what she's missing."_

" _Speak of her no more, my threat still stands. She is of no concern to you Lycus, do you understand?" She hissed._

_He simply held his hands up in surrender but the low chuckle he released said anything but taking her seriously._

" _A bit of fun was all that was my love, she is yours and rightfully so."_

_He pursed his lips at her as he adjusted his jacket and ran his fingers through his hair, taming it effortlessly._

_She was about to express her disgust again when a series of familiar voices echoed from outside._

" ** _Consider it already halfway taken care of."_**

_There was no mistaking Hermione's voice, the confidence that laced those few words had Fleurs heart flutter with a familiar yet always disarming excitement. Her eyes peered at them from the corner of the half burnt doorway as she watched the young witch take charge._

" ** _So you're thinking a burner wand as well?"_**

" ** _That's exactly right, and I know exactly where the market for that is. Come on boy's… nights just begun."_**

_Fleur's eyes widened as her hand slightly gripped the edge of the doorway. She did so love when Hermione took the lead, not even remotely phased by the harsh male dynamic their post entailed. She almost overlooked the comment of the burner wand, almost. Suddenly she was taken back, she knew there was only one place they could be headed and that did not sit well with the French Auror, not one bit. She was brought out of her thoughts by Ovid's low chuckle; at some point during her leering he had moved behind her and his breath now tickled the back of her neck in the most unsettling of ways._

" _Now **this**  is a conundrum Delacour, continue playing with me or chase after your little bird who has a penchant for getting herself into trouble?"_

_She turned swiftly around, her back pressing against the door frame when it came into full view just how close he was._

" _Speak of this to no one and I will **try**  Ovid,  **try**  not to hurt you."_

_Her gaze was fierce but her body was wrought with anxiousness, she had to catch up to them. If they were headed where she thought then Hermione was certainly not prepared for what was in store. She knew very well of Alabasters Procurements and who frequented his services on more than one occasion._

_To his credit Ovid merely clucked his tongue before moving closer to her, stubble pressing against her cheek as his lips ghosted across her ear._

" _I saw nothing, but I would be less concerned with me and more focused on catching up with her my sweet."_

_His lips brushed her cheek as he swiftly moved back, clicking his boot heels together and giving a rather over exaggerated salute before exiting the lavatory._

 

* * *

 

 

Fleur let out a deep breath as she finished. Of course, she omitted the reason for her being in the bathroom in the first place and her run in with Lycus but she gave Hermione the gist of how her presence came to be in Shanghai that night.

"By 'ze time I tracked you down to 'zat building, Seamus and Ron had already come for you. I would have torn down the whole block if Seamus had not shown me 'ze charmed napkin. I believe I was razer rude and grabbed it from him; I've been meaning to apologize, but I did not feel it was appropriate to bring up during our visits with you."

Hermione let out what could only be described as a half chuckle half scoff at the remark. Only Fleur would be concerned about her manners after her heroic rescue and display of unadulterated power.

"It's just… I've never seen you like that, even during the tournament…" She whispered, her mind thinking back again.

The blonde witch averted her eyes and shuffled her feet rather adorably as she pursed her lips, a sharp pop echoing around them before she shrugged.

The brunette observed with rapt curiosity the French woman's uncomfortable stance. Eyes flicking to pearly white teeth that caught a perfectly plump lip between them. She quickly averted her gaze as a blush ran up her neck and straight to her cheeks.

"Um and…what happened with Viktor? I heard you speaking with him before, he seemed angry at you for something. I don't remember much…just you were arguing and then he was trying to calm me down and I… I don't know what I did or how I did it but he was across the room…"

Blue eyes flashed dangerously before she shifted uncomfortably and licked her lips. Hermione found herself following the motion unexpectedly until shaking her head and willing herself to focus.

"Viktor was worried ‘Ermione. ‘e is, for obvious reasons, protective of you and 'ze frustration of 'ze night may have gotten to him; I was 'zer so he lashed out. As for what happened to him; 'zat was an accident Mon Cher, he knows 'zat without a shadow of a doubt. You are remarkable with your wand and obviously have untapped potential in wandless magic… we were more taken aback 'zan threatened."

The French woman let out a long breath after finishing and Hermione could not help the instant feeling of suspicion that seemed to fill her. The explanation was effortless as if it had been rehearsed which caused her eyes to narrow even more, but she would let it go…for now.

"Well… That seems logical enough, I suppose. You still haven't answered my previous question though Fleur. You know, about you?"

For the first time, Fleur met her eyes, her gaze resolute.

"Veela are protective of those close to 'zem, you are my friend and I could not let ‘im hurt you anymore 'zan ‘e already ‘ad. I mean…we are friends 'non?"

Were they? What was happening between them? Was it friendship? She couldn't blame the blonde Auror for not knowing; up until shell cottage and then recently had they ever truly made it past glares and slight verbal sparring. Yes, it may have indirectly been because of Fleur why she was no longer on the Stoyan case but the blonde was just doing her job as Hermione was just doing hers. Their school days were far behind them so really there was no need to call their interactions with one another anything else but friendship, a surprising one but a friendship none the less.

She assumed Fleurs uncomfortableness was directly related with those facts so she gave a reassuring smile.

"Given after the war, that night and excusing my behavior during our unexpected reunion, yes…we're friends Fleur."

Pearly whites flashed bright at Hermione's words. She chuckled with a slight blush as Fleur clapped her hands together in triumph and made her way towards the chair in front of the brunette.

"Good…good. I was so afraid you would see me differently after 'zat night…I was not in control and I'm overcome with embarrassment at my lack of restraint. I should 'ave trusted Seamus and Ron but I knew we only ‘ad minutes and 'ze Veela she... Well, 'ze Veela wants what 'ze Veela…wants…"

She trailed off at the end of her admission, her eyes slightly glassing over with something that Hermione could not recognize. The brunette did not overlook the fact that Fleurs perfectly manicured finger nails seemed to dig into the chair before whatever thought was consuming her was sent away and her beaming smile returned.

"Never ze less, let's get you back to your room. ‘eilwig is bound to make her way back soon and, unfortunately, my distraction only bought us a few moments."

The young witch chuckled, allowing Fleur to pull her up but this time instead of pulling away when the sudden shock ran through her body, she tried to adjust to it. If she and Fleur were going to be friends she would need to get used to it and supposed it was just her own reaction to an unfamiliar touch. Hermione took no notice to the shaky breath the blonde released before clasping her hand tighter and leading the brunette through the hall towards her room.

 


	10. Separations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well here it is! Finally a new chapter. I've had these written for some time but it is late and my eyes may fail in catching all of my errors.

Rules of Engagement

Chapter Ten: Separations

 

* * *

 

 

Athleticism was never Hermione’s forte, it was the one thing she always found she had to put effort into mastering. Being an Auror, this one particular skill came with extreme importance; so like everything the young Witch put her mind to, she strived to be better at it. Her lungs burned with exertion as she came to stop behind a tree, its branches marred with the scars of a cold autumn, rearing early for the season. Crouching, she rubbed the tips of her fingers together to keep them from numbing before reaching into her pocket to grasp her wand.

Faintly, in the distance, she could hear the scattering of leaves and wisps of spells as Seamus dueled with their pursuer. She had barely escaped herself when she found herself cornered; only to be saved at the last minute by the brazen Irishman. She quickly tried to formulate a plan in her head, a distraction maybe? But they were out in the open, the element for surprise was somewhat lacking currently.

A cool wind moved through, the tree’s rustling in protest and her bones chilling in its wake. She waited for it subside before taking off in a sprint, her legs kicking strongly as she gained momentum. The bob and weave method Ron had shown her over a summer ago had been nearly perfected and despite her dire straits, she found herself grinning with pride.

She reached a clearing, boots skidding to a stop on fallen leaves as she searched for her missing counterpart. The trees around her groaned as another gust of wind picked up, her arms immediately shielding herself from the onslaught of foliage and dirt. An eerie quiet had settled in and there was still no sign of the devilish Irishman.

Suddenly a yell broke through the trees and the sound of rustling and magic echoed again, her body thrusting forward towards it. She nearly lost her footing as she leaped over the cleft of a hill and slid down it, her arms immediately catching the ground behind her and pushing her body back upright as she barreled towards Seamus’s figure. His waist and legs were encircled by vines, pulling him deeper into a bramble as he clawed at the ground.

She approached closer but he wildly waved her off as he was pulled deeper, the vines now encircling his neck.

“No don’t, they’ll get yah too! Leave meh, get to the Lake! It’s too late for meh!” He groaned in exertion as he tried to pull himself further out before the vines, seeming to have a mind of their own, removed themselves from his neck in favor of his arms; yanking him backwards.

“I won’t leave you! We can do this Seamus, just give me your hand!” The young witch pleaded as she reached for him frantically.

He only batted her hands away, his eyes resolute as he slowly disappeared into the bush.

“Don’t let the bitch get yah Granger, run… Run for the lake.” Then, he was gone.

Hermione only stopped to breathe for a second before taking off, her breath coming out in harsh pants as she fired spells off behind her blindly. She narrowly dodged a vine and quickly severed one that wrapped around her wrist before the lake came into view just below a slope. Without hesitation she leapt over it, her body turning as she pulled her wand from her jacket and set a reaching vine aflame. The landing was far from soft but she rolled with it, groaning with effort and she pushed herself up into a kneeling stance. She was so close, the scent of fresh water and sediment encasing her as she closed her eyes for a brief moment of reprieve.

“You know you have to make it to the shore to win, can’t just laze about in the bedrock.”

Her eyes flew open and cast a heavy glare on the redheaded wizard standing over her, his mouth chewing furiously on a piece of bacon as he shook his head in disapproval.

“Ron… what the bloody hell? Have you been here the whole time? Stuffing your gullet?”

The redheaded Auror swallowed before taking a sip from a metal cup that wafted the scent of black tea and honey in her direction before answering.

“Oh…yeah. Yeah I have, I let her get me. It’s too early in the morning to be running ‘bout like a mad person. I’m sorry ‘Mione but it’s starting to get nippy and mah fingers were getting the numbs.” He extended the cup towards her as she stood, her glare turning incredulous.

“You let her get you? Ronald I thought you left with Seamus.” She said before glaring at the cup but taking it for its warmth anyway.

“It did look that way didn’t it? Look, she was bound to get me first anyway. You and Seamus are pretty quick on your feet, I figured I’d just not delay the inevitable; plus she always goes for you last. I’m just applying that foresight you always said I should have.”

“You know good and well this situation doesn’t apply, you lazy arse.” She grumbled before the cup flew from her hand, the metal clanking against a bed of rock nearby. Quickly, she tried to react but her body went rigid as her wand was cast away and the scent of lavender and vanilla overtook her.

Ron’s eyes went wide before shooting her an apologetic look.

“Oh, right. She’s behind you…sorry.”

A chuckle she had heard so many times over the last few months rang in her ears as the French Witch emerged from the foliage behind her.

“Monsieur Weasley ‘iz correct, you ‘ave to make it to ‘zee shore before moi. It ‘zeems az ‘zough you ‘ave come up just short, again.” The French Auror tsked as she circled around the brunette, her wand pointed straight and unwavering.

“I must claim victory. I win.” Fleur said simply, a Cheshire cat smirk curling her lips.

Hermione blew a strand of hair from her face in frustration as she struggled against the Immobulus charm that currently bound her body. The blond Aurors smirk only seeming to widen as she came to a stop next to Ron.

“I will say, much improvement over ‘zee last few times we ‘ave done ‘zis exercize. You’re improving.”

Fleurs expression was downright triumphant as she released the young witch with a flick of her wrist, an expression that had been growing ever bolder the more they practiced this scenario. Every other weekend had consisted of this. Exercises with different scenarios, different locations and running different strategies. Hermione couldn’t, and wouldn’t, deny the improvements she had garnered from these early morning practices; but the frustration of being on the losing side more often than not was starting to get to her pride.

Ronald yawned before shoving the last remnants of his third helping of bacon into his mouth, seemingly unaware of the tense air between the two Witches as he started making his way up the slope that led to the forest.

“Well, I’ll go fetch Seamus. Prepare for a slew of curses and accusations of cheating Fleur.” 

Fleur simply made a noise of acknowledgement, her eyes never leaving the seething glare of Hermione’s as her smirk stayed secured on her perfectly smooth lips.

Hermione’s eyes only narrowed more as her fingers twitched at her side, a familiar bolt running up her spine when she took note that they were alone.

This had been happening more often than she liked, something in Fleur had changed that day at the hospital. Often, and always when no one could take notice, Hermione would find Fleurs eyes from across a room, cerulean orbs already deep in thought and fastened in her direction. The look was always the same and something that Hermione could not place.

Fleur would never look away first, it was almost like she was determined not to. Hermione had often found herself having to drag her eyes away; even sometimes having to physically remove herself from the room to escape the shudder that always seemed to move its way up and down her spine when these staring competitions went on for more than a few seconds.

Maybe it was the bite of the early autumn morning or the restless sleep she had the night before, or even that finally she had grown sick of the French Auror besting her; but Hermione’s gaze did not falter this time. Which was something that seemed to get Fleurs attention, a perfectly manicured eyebrow raising as she took notice of the young witch’s determination.

“Ah, it seems I ‘ave finally ‘it a cord, ‘ave I?”

Hermione’s shoulders tensed and she bristled in defiance as Fleur moved closer. She took note of the slight pink tinge of the French Aurors cheeks, most likely do to the cold. How opposite they were, she was sure her own skin was cracked and had been battling a recurring case of runny nose since she woke up; hardly the picture of grace that was standing before her. Fleur was flawless as always, the cold only seemed to help her complexion and her lips showed no signs of cracking, smoother even now in the bitter weather that surrounded them.

Even Fleurs clothes were perfect, a simple pale blue tank and track jacket with matching fitted jogging pants. A stark contrast to Hermione’s worn jeans, white under shirt and brown leather jacket that were marred with the evidence of their excursion; yet Fleur seemed untouched.

“I haven’t the faintest idea what you mean. But you are a cheater, I do know that.” She grumbled, shoving her hands into her jacket pockets and pushing past the grinning blonde. Fleur, to her credit, did not seem bothered by the younger Witches foul mood as she simply turned with her and followed at a respectful distance.

“Oh come now, it ‘iz just a game ‘ermione.” Fleur chided as Hermione came to a stop in front of the lake’s shore, the heel of her boot digging into damp soil and sediment. Hermione merely let out a defiant huff as Fleur came to a stop just behind her, the closeness leaving the brunette slightly unsettled.

“I really did ‘zink you were going to win ‘zis time. You are quite quick on your feet, very… agile. But you are too tense, you must try to let your body go. Let it move with you raz’er ‘zan against you.”

The brunette went rigid when she felt a familiar warmth against her back; eyes widening in the shock of not realizing just how close Fleur was. Before she could think, her response fell from her lips; words clipped with slight annoyance.

“And I suppose you have suggestions on how to do that, hm?”

She turned to face her tormentor then, despite the slight tinge in her cheeks that had nothing to do with the cold anymore. Brown eyes, filled with vexation, met blue that shone with predatory excitement; causing the brunettes glare to slightly falter as she was not used to seeing this reaction. Never before had their quip matches ever garnered this response, this was new territory and it caught Hermione off guard.

She was pretty sure she just flirted with Fleur Delacour and it had completely disarmed her.

Fleurs responding chuckle was deeper and fuller than it had ever been as she leaned in, her lips parting in response before her eyes swept to the side and her jaw flexed. She stood silent for a moment, her posture still bend before her eyes slowly met Hermione’s again. Fleurs words came carefully and slow, like cream being poured into coffee.

“I do not ‘zink you are quite prepared for my answer Mon chère. But Monsieur Finnigan is about to break ‘zrough ‘zat brush so I will let you win…’zis time.” On cue Fleur turned on the heel of her foot just as a fiery and twig ridden Seamus burst through the tree line.

“Cheata! You’re a bloody cheata Fleur and don’t ya deny it!” The Irishman seethed as he yanked twigs and leaves from his hair and jumper.

His mouth was twisted into a frown that resembled an expression of being ill as he folded his arms over his chest, huffing dramatically when the blonde did not acknowledge his presence.

“I thought you were gonna kill meh! Bloody vines, that’s cheaten!”

It was a peculiar scene to watch from afar, Hermione noted. Fleur, with perfect posture and absolutely flippant attitude, compared to Seamus’s stocky and hunched vibrato. She found her annoyance slipping away as the Irishman waved his arms about wildly, curses flying as the blonde merely rolled her eyes.

“Zer are all types of magic Monsieur Finnigan. Besides, what ‘iz wrong ‘wiz a little flair? I encountered ‘zomething very similar during ‘zee tournament and I can assure you it left a lasting impression.”

If the memory bothered her, Fleur barely showed it. Time could heal most things but the slight twitch of the blonde’s lips spoke volumes. This seemed to calm Seamus slightly, his grimace turning into a slight frown as he let a long breath go.

“Well… Yeh a damn good Witch I’ll give you that, feh a cheata.”

Hermione felt for her then, the urge to give a reassuring touch bloomed in the pit of her stomach and all the way to her finger tips. Restraint had always been a well-practiced skill and she was putting it to good use now.

She hadn’t realized her gaze was fixated on the blonde’s back until her stare was broken by Ron’s bacon grease-stained mouth coming into view. He stood in front of her, chewing nonchalantly with expectant gaze, as her lips downturned into a slightly disgusted frown. Finally she took notice of his outstretched hand, a thick slice of meat dangling from his fingertips in offering.

“No thank you Ronald, I can’t possibly digest that properly so early in the morning.” She sighed as she turned back towards the shore, waves licking at her boots and then pulling back further each time.

Fleur was a mystery to her, coded in the most complicated of ways. On the outside she portrayed an open book, a woman of no secrets, Hermione knew better. The intricacies of a former champion, divorcee and Auror laid beneath the shiny vainer the blonde presented and Hermione could not help but fixate on the conundrum that was presented to her.

There was that laugh again, Hermione’s ears perked as she inclined her head towards the blonde and Seamus. They seemed to have made up, Seamus mimicking his panicked expression from earlier as he clawed his hands wildly in the air. Fleurs nose wrinkled as she laughed, each line beautifully defined but soft at the same time.

Hermione actually huffed.

Why would Fleur use such a troublesome memory as a tactic? Of all the charms, spells and jinx’s she had to choose one that held such weight. Why?

At the hospital, the blonde had been so different. There was softness, a tenderness that she had rarely seen.

Only once before…

“Oi, Mione. What’s wrong with yeh?”

The young blinked furiously, having not noticed she had been staring intensely at the duo.

“Pardon?” She feigned clearing her throat as she shifted nervously from one foot the other, her hands immediately retreating into her leather jacket as she tried to ignore the blonde witches raised eye brow and inquisitive smirk.

“Yeh had yeh face all screwed up, what’s wrong?”

Her brain stopped. It completely and utterly, stopped.

“Ron… uh he, is… was just being weird.”

Seamus’s eyes narrowed, moving back and forth between Hermione and to the red headed wizard; who was currently skipping rocks across the lake behind her. The Irishman seemed to deliberate for a moment before slowly nodding his head and then turning back towards Fleur to continue their conversation. But blue eyes continued to stare, flitting to her every few minutes as Seamus laid out his fool-proof strategy for their next meeting.

 

* * *

 

 

The weekend came and went and Hermione soon found herself being scrutinized by a darker set of eyes.

How she loathed Monday’s.

Viktor had always been a man of few words and even fewer contradictions, he never lingered on small talk.

“You are not to be doing ‘dis Hermione. If ‘Dey found out…”

She sighed rather than interrupt him, only holding her hand out weakly before dropping it to her knee. He stood by the window, Hogwarts castle to his back. She sat on the opposite end, their distance as symbolic as it was uncomfortable.

“Viktor, please. I’m just asking for information, I know full and well what the implications are but I must know.”

His hands tightened around his leather gloves, the sound seeming to drown out the constant creaking of the shrieking shack.

“If you’re asking for her ‘Den she should be here to ask for herself-“

This time she did interrupt him.

“This has nothing to do with Fleur, just simply my own peace of mind. Something tells me though that if she were here, you would be just as mute if not more unwilling.”

This seemed to quell whatever retort the Bulgarian had planned. He looked away then, eyes cast towards the castle as his body heaved a long heavy sigh before he finally spoke.

“If you are referring to ‘De night of ‘De Gala ‘Den yes, you are right to have ‘Dat assumption. But given ‘De circumstances I would be happy to help in anyway ‘Dat I could. I had… too much to drink ‘Dat night and I was very abrasive, what you thought you saw or heard was just a product of fatigue and spirits.”

He faced her then, his face unreadable. He did not wish to further the subject, it was clear with the finality of his tone. Hermione was suddenly filled with an urge to defend herself, to let him have it for insinuating what she heard may have been more elevated due to her condition that night.

But she had nor the time or the patience for such debates and she did make it clear that this was not about Fleur, not today at least.

“Have you heard of anything of Stoyan or Emil?”

Another conflicted sigh left the star Quidditch player before answering.

“No, but some in circle say ‘Dat Stoyan has gone into hiding. The French are not taking him lightly any longer and I fear ‘Dat my sources are starting to run dry on ‘Dis particular subject.”

Her gut twisted as she subtly gripped the armrest of the chair in frustration.

“But…”

She turned suddenly, the chair creaking with the movement.

“But?” She parroted, her eyes beseeching as Viktor twisted his gloves once more, lips turning into a conflicted frown.

“But… I have heard ‘Dat Sergey Boyko may be assisting in whatever Stoyan’s next move is. He’s been traveling quite heavily since ‘De night of ‘De Gala and one of my Chaser’s actually met with him ‘De other night. He was asking for favors, needed Galleons for some trip somewhere far south; not sure where.”

She stood, making her way to him in a few strides as she reached out to tentatively touch his shoulder. The shudder than ran through him did not go unnoticed and suddenly she was filled with guilt, her hand retracting almost instantly.

“Viktor I… Thank you. I promise I just want to know, I have my own case to worry about now and as you know I have an unwavering affinity for following the rules.” She joked lightly, her hand moving awkwardly to her side as he regarded her with sorrowed eyes at the failed gesture.

“Heh, does not seem ‘Dat way as of late. Hermione…”

Callused fingers stroked under chin, the gesture done with such lightness and subtlety she often forgot he was cable of such movements. She was so shocked by it, so taken aback by the fact that she had not noticed how close he had come into her space that she stood there; staring with mouth slightly agape at him.

“Viktor, what are you-“

He shushed her softly, his gaze intense as he ran a single digit from her cheek to the underside of her chin. It lingered there for some time, his eyes fixated on her lips before he let out a deep breath and took a step back.

“I am not poison, yet you look at me as if I am something you need to remedy. Something to be…far from. All I have wanted is to be needed by you and ‘Dat is why I indulged in helping you, but I feel ‘Dat my threshold has been met. I cannot go on like ‘Dis, ‘De push, pull and tear of what we never had is…wounding.”

He spoke with jilted pauses and accent thicker than ever as he looked away from her; his confession spoken to the floor.

“You are your job and your job is you. You do not separate from your life anything ‘Dat you are passionate about, ‘Dis I know of you; ‘Dis I respect about you. All I urge is for you to be careful, with Stoyan, whatever you are doing now…and with ‘Da Veela.”

He met her gaze then, his eyes intense as the words sunk down into her bones and her body quivered from the cold from outside and sudden turn their meeting had taken. She felt horrible, disgusted with herself for having been so selfish not notice what pain she had been causing him. The feelings swirled in her gut before her brain ticked, her eyes clouding with suspicion.

“Viktor, I’m sorry. I’ve been a right git and I can admit that, but what does Fleur have anything to do with this? With…us?”

His responding chuckle was deep and full of mirth has he forcibly put his gloves on and buttoned his coat.

“Dat Hermione, is not my answer to give. All I ask for is time, no letters even. I need space. I do adore our correspondence and ‘De short amount of time I have gotten to spend with you ‘Dese last few months during your recovery; have been so wonderful and refreshing. But I made a promise to myself ‘Dat I would step back and ‘Dat is what I am doing because I want you to be happy.”

Her mind reeled as she tried to come up with something to say, something to deny and fix the rift that was between them. Nothing came however and he gave a sad smile that did not quite reach his eyes before whispering his goodbyes and disappearing with a faint pop.

As soon as he left her body slid down to the floor, hand clutched to her chest. Her mind still in shock at the fact that she had nothing to utter in ways of stopping him. As her chest heaved and she tried desperately to settle her shaking hands; she could not stop the echo of her own voice in her head, repeating over and over again:

“This has nothing to do with Fleur…”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys liked it, I have another chapter ready for next week so keep an eye out. As always, feedback is my life blood.


	11. Reunions

Rules of Engagement

Chapter Eleven: Reunions

* * *

 

 

Hermione never liked Herbology, she estimated it may have been the smell. The scent of potted soil and timber wood was not appealing to the for-mentioned sense and she doubted it ever would be. Don't misunderstand, the study of plants and their uses was a fascinating part of the subject; but the physical application left much to be desired. She hated mess; always had and always would. The feeling of dirt underneath her nails and the itch of a stems follicles brushing against her skin was the biggest vexation she had with the subject. It was with this in mind that she found herself with a conundrum. A very confounding situation indeed; because as from what she could recall most of her fellow class mates, aside from one, on some level had similar sentiments.

It was this lone quandary that caused the brunettes brow to arch inquisitively when she spotted the greenhouses of her former alma mater buzzing with activity. So as she made her way down the stone steps, that led from the Head Mistress’s office, towards the grounds; one question could not escape her mind.

What could be so exciting about Herbology these days?

The group, which consisted mostly of girls she noted, were gathered around the greenhouse entrance; their murmuring growing louder as Hermione approached. The crowds back was to her but they were huddled in tight; so she was only able to catch some of the conversations here and there. But the more she heard, the more her curiosity piqued.

“I would have gladly left off charms for my N.E.W.T’s if I knew Herbology was going to be so…invigorating this year.”  A Ravenclaw girl gushed. There were hushed whispers of agreement before Hermione finally reached just outside of the circle of young bodies to see a figure knelt down in front of a stack of firewood; axe slung over their shoulder.

If her brow could go any higher it would have at the sight before her. Now the young witch had been in contact with her old school mate over the years, do not be mistaken. She had seen the changes that diminishing adolescence and a brief stint as an Auror could make. But a tan Neville Longbottom clad in fitted Khakis and white undershirt that did little to hide his finely carved muscle; was a bit of a shock. He had grown increasingly attractive, she wasn’t blind but she had never thought that others would take such notice. But they were, oh it seemed they were indeed if the little fan club gathered around wasn’t evidence enough.

Brown eyes narrowed in annoyance and she felt a tinge of something that she could not place. The last time she felt anything akin to it was at the Gala; with a certain blonde Auror. This instance was more subdued she noted but she quickly shook the thoughts from her head, she wasn’t going to let herself become fixated on a minor spell of jealousy. Having decided that the students ogling had gone on long enough; she made her presence known.

“Well aren’t you looking rather fit Professor?” She called out, drawing his attention as well as the young onlookers; who gasped in astonishment when seeing who was standing behind them.

A smile that was encased in stubble broke out over the young Professors features before he briskly made his way towards her, seemingly unaware of the group that had formed around him. He brushed past them without so much as a second glance and enveloped her in a hug so fierce it lifted her from the ground.

“Hermione Granger! I should say you’re the one looking fit. It’s been months ‘Mione… How are you?”

Her reply fell short when she saw that a larger crowd had gathered now; their Inquisitive (some envious) eyes taking in their embrace. Hermione felt her face flush and patted Neville’s chest as a sign to let her down. He did so but still kept his hands on her shoulders as he gazed down on her fondly.

“Um well I’ve been fine Neville but… could we possibly speak somewhere more private?” She asked, eyes shifting from his to the crowd.

The young Professor seemed to finally notice they had an audience, his brows creased together as his hands fell from her shoulders and he took a stern stance.

“There’s half an hour left on lunch, I suggest you lot make good use of it before I start taking points. That especially goes for Gryffindor House… Now move along.”

There were dejected murmurs but the crowd quickly dispersed as Neville led her into one of the greenhouses nearby. Dew from sprinklers perched overhead kissed her cheek and she slightly regretted not wearing something warmer. Clad only in a pair of worn blue skinny jeans, shirt and her favorite leather jacket, the ensemble seemed a poor choice for upcoming fall weather.

Neville; having noticed her discomfort, gave her an apologetic smile before flicking his wand. The doors to the greenhouse shut and she instantly felt a little warmer. He turned to her then; gaze expectant as he perched himself up on one of the work benches.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come to the Gala, I’ve been trying to find my bearings here since my post but… being a Herbology Professor seems to be a lot more challenging than I once thought, I couldn’t get away.”

She merely shrugged as she moved down the aisles, coming upon a planters box of Moly; she smiled faintly before turning back towards Neville.

“Well you didn’t miss much, Seamus and Ron were on good enough behavior for this one. I just wanted to come by and see how you were, your absence didn’t go unnoticed.”

The young Professor merely chuckled as he absently twirled a root between his fingers. Hermione noted his calloused palms and soil ridden finger nails. Herbology was always Neville’s passion. Even though he seemed to have his misgivings; the young witch could not help but feel he was right where he belonged.

“Come on now ‘Mione, it is good to see you but you can’t just be here for a social call.” Neville said knowingly before frowning in concern.

“That cheek needs some Murtlap salve if you want the discoloration to go away by the way. Harry working you too hard?”

His fingers briefly skimmed the cheek in question before moving to the collar of her jacket, his thumb rubbing off a left over stain of soot and blood. The young Professor held his thumb to her, the smudge of black and red causing her to shift uncomfortably as she tried to shake the memories of blistered knuckles colliding against her cheek. It had been a difficult recovery; she would sometimes wake in the middle of the night, trying to pry invisible hands from her throat and the scent of rain water and gravel would take hours to fade from her senses. But Neville had always been and would always be a worrier, she decided to leave that story for a later date as she gently moved his hand back down.

“Oh no, Harry’s been fine; a lead turned out to be a little more rough than I had expected. But let’s just say…you should see the other guy.”

He laughed deeply as he nodded, seeming to accept her answer for the time being at least. “I don’t doubt he’s worse for wear for a second. Now what can I help you with?”

She sighed before pulling a small thin box from her jacket pocket and handing it to him. He eyed her curiously before taking it, his fingers sliding the top off to reveal a thin branch of dilapidated wood. Calloused fingers ran over scorch marks and splits at the base and tip before he hummed in interest.

“A burner wand. I’ve heard of these, never actually seen one though. Quite a shabby craft I’d say; do you know what the core is?”

The young witch simply shrugged as he jumped down from the work bench and made his way around it, rolling the wand between his fingertips.

“From what our source had alluded to; it could be some sort of plant possibly?”

He set the item down on the dirt laden surface before pulling a rather ostentatious scope from underneath. The scope was crafted from brass and eight pieces of magnified glass; one stacked over the other from large to small. Neville pulled his wand from his back pocket, flicking the tip which caused the glass pieces to move flourishingly up and down, seemingly focusing the magnification.

“Ah yes, just inside this crack here I can see it, no mistaking that root. What you’ve got is a shite crafted wand with a core of an enchanted Pwisan tree; a rather powerful and hard to come by component. It’s most commonly used as a secondary ingredient for endurance potions, Um… ones that increase stamina or temporarily enhance magical ability.”

The young witch nodded as she watched her old friend move swiftly from the work bench to a stack of worn books. He quickly found the title he was searching for and with one wave of his wand the pages turned to a specific chapter. He handed her the book which pages were covered with drawings of a sapling tree and a full grown specimen, a thin trunk of wood and spindled branches.

“Hm, it says here it can only grow in magical enhanced soil?” She queried.

“Yes! Precisely; a specific mixture of soil, you see? And that soil can be only be found in the Caribbean, Haiti to be exact. Now as I understand it: it’s been under strict growing laws for the past few years because unwittingly it had found its way into some of the local fauna. The natives and some of the urban populace as well; upon discovering it, found that if they chewed it the effects were quite stimulating. They mainly use it for ritualistic hunting or labor at the most, so it’s very curious how it could it find its way into a wand like this.”

Hermione frowned in confusion as her finger tips moved over lines of text.

“I can’t tell you much Neville but I just don’t see the connection. The person I got this wand from was... a tiny player at best, I mean he’s practically infantile. What possible motivation can he have to go through so much trouble for something like this?”

 Neville scoffed as he looked at her incredulously.

“I’ve seen blokes do a lot more for a lot less. Money’s always where you start ‘Mione, after that: power and then self-preservation. Maybe they’ve got something on him…or even something he needs. There’s a bigger picture I promise you that.”

Hermione regarded the man before her and briefly wondered why he had ever left his post as an Auror. His deduction skills seemed ever intact and hardly out of practice and there was a glint in his eyes that she had not seen since their early days at the Ministry. Herbology may have been his passion but field work was his thrill.

“I see I still have much to learn Professor, pardon my ignorance.” She said, playfully hitting his shoulder as he gave her a roguish smirk.

“Well I can’t let my replacement overlook such things. Though I hear that even though Harry’s fighting paper work more these days than scoundrels; Seamus has proven to be quite the replacement for your little trio.”

She smiled fondly as she remembered her rookie year, the Golden Trio together again. They had made quite a team, the most apprehensions of any rookie team before and since.

“Best job offer I’ve ever gotten, I’d say. But honestly Neville you’re in your element here, I can see why you received better marks than me in this particular subject.”

He waved his hand dismissively.

“Oh come off it, only on participation merit I assure you. You were always squeamish with the ones that moved.”

They laughed together for some time before it died off naturally. A feeling of nostalgia over took her and she instantly made a mental note to make time to get them all back together for a drink sometime soon. She was about to relay her thoughts on the matter when Neville’s face straightened suddenly, his gaze turning towards her with a mischievous gleam.

“You’re going to try and get another sample aren’t you?”

Hermione visibly shrunk as she tried to shrug dismissively, her thumbs gripping the outside of her jeans pockets nervously. What just happened?

“Well I… Neville you know I can’t discuss any of that, its Ministry business.”

Neville scoffed even louder this time as he folded his arms and gave her a glare that screamed ‘I’m not stupid.’

“Bullocks! I’m assuming you’re going to need an unused sample. If Lamont still has that stick up his arse, and after all these years it’s probably moved further up now, he’d most likely prefer one. You’re going on reconnaissance aren’t you?”

The young witch found herself befuddled, her mouth opening and closing several times a she tried to form an answer.

“Guess the answers yes then, you only do that guppy thing with your mouth when you don’t want to lie. Look Hermione, I adore Seamus and Ron but they are no good at procuring items such this because of their well… more physical methods of dealing with these sorts of things. You need an expert.”

It was her turn to scoff as she shook her head and regarded him suspiciously.

“Neville... If I didn’t know any better; I’d say that you were suggesting I bring you with us on a field assignment?”

Neville feigned a look of surprise before shrugging and clasping his hands together. He sighed dramatically, fog billowing out between his lips as he slowly started to nod.

“Well I mean I suppose I could be more of an advisor than an agent. I wouldn’t take light with his ‘Mione, the underbelly of Herbologic import and export can be quite seedy; you’ll need someone with expertise in this matter if you plan to attain a more viable sample.”

The brunette eyes widened.

“The seedy underbelly-? Okay now you’re just taking a piss, we’d be there one day at the most. It’s just a plant sample, not some James Bond spy adventure. It’ll quite boring and uneventful.” She reasoned.

“I’m taking a piss? Oh okay, you’re right Hermione; when has anything not gone according to plan when you’re an Auror on a field assignment?” He asked incredulously.

They each took turns scoffing at each other before the young witch groaned in frustration. Neville could possibly be just itching to get away from the Hogwarts grounds and her findings seemed to interest him greatly. But was there danger in bringing him? He used to be a quite capable Auror after all and he did make a good point about Lamont wanting an unused sample for analysis. Finally seeming to come to a decision; she worried her bottom lip before regarding her old friend.  

“I suppose your services aren’t needed for this weekend’s Hogsmeade visit?” She inquired exasperatingly.

A smile that reached from one ear to the other spread across Neville’s face. All Hermione could do was yelp in surprise and laughter when het let out a victorious shout and swept her into another fierce hug.

 

* * *

 

 

Fleur never liked the cold, the bite of it against her bones was an unwelcome feeling that she had never grown used to. She was used to summers in the French countryside, perspiration running lines down the back of her neck as she chased her sister through fields of dandelion and lavender. Never had she thought she could experience a worse climate than England’s. But as with most things; she may have spoken too soon.

Romania was proving to be absolutely dreadful.

Plumes of smoke mixed with fog from the cold flowed from her lips as she released another drag from her cigarette, it wasn’t until she heard footsteps approaching, the crunch of fall leaves echoing behind her, that she realized just how difficult this meeting was going to be.

“That’s a nasty habit, hasn’t anyone told you that?”

The voice held a familiar tone that caused Fleur to bristle slightly at the memories it brought, she shook her head before turning to meet bright blue familiar eyes. She simply flicked the cigarette over the cliff she was currently perched on and gave a weak shrug. “It’s been mentioned once or twice.”

“I was to meet a Serviceman here… care to tell me where he’s gone?”

Fleur simply smiled.

“Ah yes, I met ‘im up ‘zee road. I simply…persuaded ‘im to ‘ave a little break. You don’t look so ‘appy to see me Charlez.”

The second eldest Weasley chuckled as he shook his head in disbelief. Fleur couldn’t help but compare him to William. They were both of similar builds and stature, even their mannerism were exactly the same.

“Does Bill know you’re here?”

Cerulean eyes cast downwards at the mention of her former husband. Yes, Charlie Weasley definitely shared similar traits with his older brother; just like Bill he was insufferably blunt.

“Non, ‘e does not. I prefer it remain ‘zat way.”

“You can’t possibly ask that of me-“

“I am ‘ere purely on French Ministry buizness; ‘zis case is similar to one I ‘ave been overseeing so it would not be appropriate to involve your family-“

“Not appropriate? Bloody hell Fleur, no one has heard from you in nearly three years and you just show up here-“

“Charlez you ‘ave no idea ‘ow I regret leaving ‘zings ‘zee way I did; but I had no ozer choice-.”

“Aw no don’t you do that, don’t you even dare do that. My family may have been harsh on you at times but you were still family. Bill cared… cares deeply about you and you just leave him in the dust. Forget about Mum or Ginny, hell even me; Merlin knows we weren’t the kindest and I get it. But you shouldn’t have forgotten Bill.”

His words cut through her and she sighed in exasperation as she turned from him to look towards the pale green hillside. After a moment she spoke softly and calmly, her words carefully chosen.

“I ‘ave never forgotten ‘im. I ‘old William dear to my ‘eart, but only ‘e and I know why ‘zings ended ‘zee way ‘zey did. We ‘ave an understanding and I don’t expect you to forgive or comprehend it; but I am only asking ‘zat you do not mention my vizit because it is of ‘zee upmost importance for my assignment ‘zat I waz not ‘ere.”

She turned back towards him, his face was marred with indecision as he took in her words. Their interactions had been forced at times, but he was easier to talk to than most of the Weasley’s. He finally let out a giant puff of air, the cloud from his nostrils and mouth bellowing around him.

“Fine… but only cuz you didn’t blab when you caught your cousin and me getting cozy at your wedding. If mum ever found out she would have had conniption.”

Surprisingly they both started to laugh, the memory over taking them. Fleur had felt flush from the wine and had decided to get a drink of water from inside when she walked into a most comprising scene. Charlie Weasley and her cousin embracing one another against the moonlight that shown through the Weasleys living room windows. She had never seen a Weasley blush such a deep shade of red as he had that night.

“Ah yes, Gwendoline still asks about you.”

Charlie turned crimson from his neck to his ears before he cleared his throat and shifted from one foot to the other.

“Well, you know the Weasley men can’t be tamed but um… if you see her, tell her she can owl or…you know whatever.”

She smiled, thankful for the change in mood. Another trait that was similar between all Weasley men was that their temper, even though fierce, could be quelled rather quickly.

“Anyway, I guess we better get down to business then. Come on, just over this ridge- I’ll show you what the bastards did.”

They made their way over a fog riddled hill top that overlooked a clearing, burnt grass and ash marring the shrubbery. Fleur shivered as a gust of wind blew across her cheek, her hands immediately upturning the collar on her pea coat as Charlie pointed towards a large mound just off to the right. It wasn’t until Fleur was too close that she realized the mound was in fact: a dragon. Charlie on the other hand didn’t seem one bit phased as he approached ever closer, his stride unbroken. She heard him coo and click at the beast, his hand raised towards its snout.

“Easy now, she’s a friend. Be still and let her have a look okay? I’ll give you something scrumptious if you don’t eat her.”

Fleur scoffed indignantly at him as he gave her a roguish smirk. The beast seemed to understand him though, nostrils flaring before it nuzzled into the dragon keepers hand.

“They came from the north, just up that way through the forest. I was in town getting supplies and I had a man stationed to keep watch. When I got back, he was unconscious and there were three idiots on her back trying to pull out one of her spines.”

He gestured toward the dragons back that was covered in bone like bristles, one was clearly broken off at an odd angle and Fleur could not help but feel sorry for the beast; for the area looked swollen and blood clotted.

“Any idea az to why?” She said as she approached closer. Charlie simply shook his head before taking her hand and guiding it towards the beast’s scaled cheek. The dragon huffed and the French Auror was suddenly struck with fear as the heat from the gust enveloped her body. Dragons were truly powerful creatures, she had never forgotten her bout with one during the Triwizard Tournament and had vowed to never take them lightly.

“It’s all right Ash, she’s friendly… Veela, Veela is good. _Veela sunt bune_.” The dragon keeper cooed expertly in Romanian tongue.

A slated eye met Fleurs, the pupil dilating and retracting as if analyzing its master’s words. The French Auror released a breath she did not know she had been holding when the dragon pushed against her hand affectionately; her fingers moving across the plate like scales in wonderment.

“I think she likes you.” Charlie chuckled, patting the dragon on her nose before regarding Fleur again.

“Anyway, by the time I had made my way to her she’d thrown one of them off and he was incinerated before I could even blink; the others apparated as soon it happened so I didn’t really good look at them.”

“ _Merde_ , I will ‘ave to look for clues. ‘Ave you disturbed anyzing?” She inquired as she started to slip on a pair of leather gloves.

“Ah well, not exactly. Look the Serviceman was supposed to be here hours ago okay? I got impatient and searched Mr. Barbecue over there.” He said, pointing at the smoking heap that was currently covered with a shoddy blanket.

“Charlez… you tampered wiz evidence-“

He stopped her protest before it could begin, holding up his index finger while his other hand dug in his pocket and pulled out a crumpled cigarette box. The French Auror eyed it curiously before taking it, gently wafting the smell of the left over tobacco to her nose.

“Hm, not a blend I’m familiar wiz.”

“Ah you would be correct in that. Very hard to find this brand, it’s a specialty of sorts. I took it to the trader in town and he says he’s only seen this sold in one place, take a look at the makers mark.” The dragon keeper, smiled triumphantly as the French witch took notice of the logo and hummed in interest.

“Nasty ‘abit indeed…”

 

* * *

 

Hermione had never been to the Caribbean and for this she was quite disappointed in herself. Her eyes took in the beautiful pastel colored buildings that made up the bustling city of Les Cayes; its 17th century architecture and its seamless mixture of urban and rural living. The scent of fresh mango and sea salt caught her senses and she found the mix to be surprisingly pleasant as she, Ron and Neville walked through the bustling market. Neville would occasionally stop and marvel at some of the local apothecary stands, taking samples in vials and discussing properties and affects with the stand owners. She simply watched with a faint smile, the outside may have changed but he was the same old Neville. The young Auror was surprised when she saw that Ronald had taken an interest as well, querying the Professor when he found something of fascination.

She adjusted her light gray fitted blazer as a gust of wind blew past her, relishing in the warm breeze. They had not brought Seamus on this trip and she was feeling guilty by not having done so. During the days after her release they had been temporarily reassigned to the lower levels; and though Hermione found that the post left her with plenty of time to catch up on some of her light reading, it was still insufferably boring. Seamus and been right in assuming that guarding a piece of parchment in the sub-basement of the Ministry left much to be desired; but unfortunately for the Irishman this weekend was his turn.

She was brought of her thoughts when she felt Neville squeeze her shoulder.

“My contact will be meeting us near the edge of town at a nearby a café. Shall we get going?”

They caught a taxi, which Neville marveled at for the entire hour it took them to get to their destination. Ron, now being the expert on Muggle transportation, purely based on a fouled up attempt with Harry in their second year and most recently Morocco; gave his tutelage on cars and their various forms. They soon found themselves at the edge of the city; a sprawling urban landscape that ran off into tropical foothills. Neville led them up a single cobblestone street where a half hinged sign that read ‘Bon Kafe’ swung back and forth. The trio quietly sat themselves and ordered three ice waters as Neville’s eyes searched the area for their contact.

“Well… He’s late, island time varies though. They’re a much laid back lot, shouldn’t be too much longer.” Neville sighed, taking a handkerchief from his beige suits breast pocket and wiping his brow.

They sat in silence for some time before the redheaded Auror let out long yawn, his face contorting dramatically. “Oi Neville, I almost forgot. I ran into Luna at the Gala the other night; she said she was sorry you didn’t come.”

Neville’s ears turned a bright shade of pink as he sputtered his water back into his glass.

“Luna? She asked about me? Really?”

Hermione tried to conceal her smirk as she watched their exchange. Neville and Hannah had separated some time ago and she was shocked that her former housemate and the whimsical Ravenclaw hadn’t come together yet. Given Neville’s still shy personality though it was going to take a push which it seemed Ron had tasked himself with at that very moment. She arched an eyebrow at her redheaded counterpart and received a sly wink in return.

“Oh yeah, she came all the way back from her site in Africa to be there. She seemed real sorry not to see you mate, I mean that.”

Neville’s mouth hung ajar briefly before he adjusted his suit jacket and looked off into the distance pensively.

“I… I’m sorry as well. It’s been so long since we’ve last…had tea. I should owl her… shouldn’t I?” He asked, his gaze swiftly turning to Hermione.

“Oh yeah Neville, I’m sure she’d like to…have tea as well.” She offered, her smirk still fighting to reveal itself. Neville nodded, seeming to mull it over until his face took on a determined expression and he sat up straighter.

“Yeah, when I get back… I’m going do that. I’m going to owl her.” He said with determination. Hermione was about to agree when a loud crack echoed through the café, three figures suddenly appearing in its wake. Neville stood up abruptly, buttoning his suite jacket before extending his hand out to one of the men.

“Mr. Yewande, it is a pleasure to finally meet you. I have heard so much about your endeavors here.”

The man simply looked down at the young Professors hand before sneering and moving aside to reveal a woman, ornately dressed in the local garb, a long wood carved staff in her right hand.

“I am Yewande, these are my body guards. You will not address them in these affairs… only me.”

Her arms extended as one of the guards removed her cloak and the other pulled out a nearby chair for her to sit in. Neville blushed before clearing his throat and retracting his hand.

“I apologize Miss Yewande, I never took from our correspondence that you were you a-“

“A woman? Why? Men have ruled the magical world for centuries Professor Longbottom and just look at the state it’s in. I am Head Mistress, Minister, Magistrate and Jury for our society on this island. I can assure you things get done a lot quicker and with a lot more efficiency than what you’re used to.”

Neville and Ron visibly gulped before turning to Hermione. She rolled her eyes before turning towards their new guest.

“Yewande, ‘mother has returned’; that’s quite a beautiful name, prolific as well. Your efforts across the island are rather impressive, the ward we passed through to get here was quite intricate. Just the passing look I was able get proved most interesting: anti-apparition ward with clear coded exceptions of course.”

The Haitian witch seemed taken a back and eyed Hermione down with inquisitive eyes.

“The Professor keeps good company I see, you I like. Yes, only I and my men may utilize apparition within my compound and the area alongside it. I love my people but there are thieves in the weeds and my stock is precious.”

She tipped her head towards the young witch clearly impressed with her deduction before turning back to Neville.

“But you are here to discuss something other than politics. In your letters you were in inquiring about a Pwisan specimen; you are highly skilled in your profession but before we can proceed I must know your intentions.”

Yewande looked utterly regal as she clasped her hands in front of her awaiting for his reply.

“Oh… yes purely educational, I assure you. I’m merely looking for an example really, kept under glass and carefully monitored. No student will be handling it, that I can promise.” Neville lied with surprising confidence.

Coal eyes narrowed at the trio for a moment then gestured to one of her men, he leaned down and nodded as she whispered to him before he ran out of the cafe.

“We will go to my compound and there you will find what you seek. Not many outsiders are extended this invitation; declining will not bode well for our arrangement.”

Without waiting for an answer she stood and made her way out of the café, her other guard in tow; leaving the trio glancing at one another with confused stares.

“Don’t like this… why didn’t she just bring it with her?” Ron whispered.

“We have to earn it Ron, Neville shows up with two Aurors for a plant sample and she doesn't have the right to be suspicious?”

They stood in unison as the redheaded Auror buttoned his royal blue suit jacket. “You think she's made us? I didn't think anyone would know who we were all the way out here.”

“Course she does Ron, a woman like that makes it her business to know.” She whispered as they made their way outside. A long, jet black limousine awaited them, the Haitian witch was already seated inside.

“Please forgive the primitive transportation, since you cannot apparate we must travel by car.”

Neville and Ron gave nervous smiles before piling in, as gracefully as two men with long limbs could. Hermione looked on with trepidation; muttering about ‘best laid plans.’


End file.
